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Hello, 

Welcome to the stories of the EROTIC STORY CONTEST 10 -  War Time (Romance or Lust.)

There are 10 stories for you to read as you scroll down and are over 2 pages.

They are all published by me to protect the integrity of the voting. 

Authors will be revealed at the end of voting when winners are announced and the contest concludes. Prizes and submission awards will be credited to authors accounts shortly afterwards.

Please take your time to read and assess each one, then vote for your favourite story.

HOW TO VOTE
1. Please remember, you can only cast one vote so make sure you have indicated the correct story you want.
2. To do this, click on the white spot or dot directly before the one you have chosen as your favourite.
3. When you are satisfied with your choice, press "Submit Vote" button underneath the list of choices / entries. This will then register your vote.
4. If you have done so correctly, the white spot or dot before each entry will have disappeared ; your choice will be listed amongst the others in a slightly more bolder print and it will show that your vote has taken as one more vote will be added to the count for the one you have chosen and also in the overall count, recorded underneath the list of all the entries.

Your vote is important and shows support for our little contest and the authors who have taken the time to write a story and enter the contest for your enjoyment.

Remember too, that each story has at least one hidden Achat component -  it can be a room, an outfit or background. They are fun to find somewhere in each story and very often contain more than one including some of the sex poses.

Thank you for taking the time to read the stories and vote. It is very much appreciated.

Happy reading, searching for the Achat component and of course.... Happy Wanking.     

Brandybee -  Contest Manager. Xxx

Sergeant Walter Givens, Walt to his buddies, was a Marine with a capital M. At six foot one and one hundred and seventy pounds he was lean and fit after two years of heavy fighting. He was at Guadalcanal, then the invasion of Attu, and finally Iwo Jima. He fought ferociously and instinctively but on “Iwo” his instincts finally failed him. Walt stepped on a landmine, charging a hill, that blew off his leg at the calf and filled his lower limbs with shrapnel. A medic quickly dragged him to safety and he was carried down the hill.

Walt remembers the explosion, pain and finally waking up in hospital. The rest is an agonizing blur of morphine and unconsciousness. They pulled the bits of steel out of him and sewed him up. He had no leg below the knee and only one testicle. He was in Melbourne, Australia, but they may as well have left him on that hill. Walt lay on his side, staring at nothing. “Half a man” echoed through his head. He lay there in despair instead of being glad to be alive.

Four nurses served his ward. All the men were stable and recovering. Many, like him, were missing parts. They just needed pain killers and sometimes some help. Lilibeth was happy to help. A refugee herself, she had left the Philippines for nursing school here at the outset of the war and now had no home to go back to. She was a petite golden skinned young woman with long flowing black hair, she wore the tight white single piece uniform with the red stripes on the seams and obligatory white stockings. It was her schooling dress and was perhaps a little too short, but during war it seemed frivolous to buy another.

Lilibeth always had a smile for the brave warriors of the Pacific. That is how she saw them. They fought to recapture her home, to free them from the Japanese. Lilibeth flirted with all the men and lifted their spirits if she could. “Sometimes a down man just needs to be reminded he is a man”, her mother had told her that years ago when her father lost his job. Mama, tired of his moping, took Papi into their room on Saturday and on Monday he was looking for a new job.

Lilibeth went to Walter’s bedside to give him a shave. He had been in the field a long time and his face was scraggily. She was all smiles and approached him happily with a basin, straight razor and towel.

“Sergeant” she began, “time for a shave.”

“Please leave me alone.” He said coldly, still facing the wall.

“I can’t, Sergeant Givens.” She said softer but still sweetly. “It’s my job.”

She put the tray down on the night stand and lightly sat at the edge of his bed. He felt her weight and could smell her. She was flowery and musky. She waited patiently. Finally he turned a little to look at her.

“What?” he asked aggravated.

Lilibeth gave him a small smile and pleading eyes. She could wrap her Papi around her little finger with those deep chocolate eyes. “Please, Sergeant.” She asked him softly. “Let me shave you?”

Walter couldn’t believe this. He just wanted to die and this girl wanted to make him look nice. Slowly he turned and sat up gingerly. His stump still throbbed and he had stitches all over.
He looked over at her with irritation in his eyes and annoyance in his voice. “You’re not going to leave are you?”

She held her little smile but made her eyes innocent. “Eventually, my shift will change, Sergeant.”  She said in answer.

“Fine” was all he said and put his head back against the bed rail.

Lilibeth smiled wide with bright white teeth and put the towel under his chin and quickly but gently lathered his bearded face. She held the razor expertly; she had shaved other things on a man as a nurse. She worked quietly, realizing her patient obviously didn’t wish to talk. But she smiled if he looked at her. “All men were men” she thought and remembered her mother.

Walter let his dinner sit on the side table. He didn’t want food. He lay there again staring at the wall. Lilibeth quietly came and took it. She paused and looked at him. She knew what was wrong, she had read the chart, a leg gone, but also part of his manhood. She began to reach out but thought better of it and left him to his anguish.

The next morning the head nurse was giving Walter a hard time when Lilibeth showed up. She had a wheelchair and wanted him to eat in the cafeteria so his bed linens could be changed. The head nurse was also military and was about to pull rank on the sergeant.

“Why can’t you people just let me DIE?!” Walter shouted.

“Because you aren’t dead, Marine!” she threw back.

“Lieutenant,” the pinay girl interceded and got the head nurse a few steps away, “let me, I have had luck with him.” She asked.

The Head nurse threw up her hands, “He’s all yours, girl! Good luck with him!” and she walked back to the ward desk.

Lilibeth tossed her simple purse and sweater under Walter’s bed table and sat on the edge of his bed again. She just smiled at him for a few moments until he looked over to acknowledge her.

 “You must be hungry, Sergeant.” She said in her sweetest voice of concern. “Let me take you to breakfast. Please.”Her mother taught her that too. Men will “dig in” if ordered by a woman, but if pleaded with, if asked, they could be putty in your hands.
Lilibeth gave a crooked smile, “I haven’t had breakfast either. Please, you’d be giving me an excuse to go eat.” She looked coyly at him.

Walter gave in. “Bring that stupid chair over here.”


After eating, Lilibeth pushed him slowly around the grounds, taking the long way back. It was late summer in Australia and it was warm with a light ocean breeze that filled the senses with memories of the beach in Manilla. Walter stayed silent through her breakfast conversation but he did eat. Now she spoke to him as they toured the grounds.

“I thought I would hate Melbourne and be so home sick when I came here but Manila is much like this and I love the ocean air.” She pushed him towards their wing. “Is your hometown near the water, Sergeant?” she asked.

“Walter” he said.

“I’m sorry?” she said, but in truth she had heard him.

“Call me Walter or Walt. I’m tired of being Sergeant.”  He said with some disgust.

“OK, Walt.” she giggled. “I am Lilibeth. I don’t think I ever introduced myself.”

“Lilibeth?” He grumped.

“It’s like Elizabeth,” she said “but I can be Lily or Beth or... Lilibeth.”

“What is that perfume? You smell like a flower shop.” He grumped again.

“It’s Oleander. It’s very popular in the Philippines. We grow them there.” She was happy to inform him, Walt was talking.

For the next few days, Walt was Lilibeth’s problem. He was still depressed and becoming angrier at the world and would listen to no one, not even with threat of court-martial. But she could cajole him. She would be sweet and ask him nicely or ask him to do it for her and eventually he would. She took to pushing him around outside every day after breakfast. It got him out of the other nurses’ way and it seemed to calm him.

“Tell me of Missouri?” She started in her sweet sing song voice one morning.

“You’d hate it.” Walter simply spat in his gruff voice. “Why do you want to know?” He nearly accused.

“Conversation..” She responded honestly. “You hardly talk to me, Walt. I’m starting to think you don’t like me.” Lillybeth teased leaning into his ear. “Don’t you like me?”

Walt could smell that perfume and feel her breath at his neck and had to admit she was tolerable. “You’re OK.”

“So tell me about Missouri.” She sounded off like a lark.

“I’m from a little town. They can chicken and potted foods there. Hell, half my K rations are made there.”

“Do you miss it?” She asked sincerely, thinking of her Manilla.

“I… I guess. I haven’t thought about it in a while.”

“You have no family?” She pried a little more.

“What?” He asked incredulously. “Of course I do, my ma and pop.”


“Oh,” she put in, sounding confused. “it’s just that you haven’t written anybody yet.”

Walter looked back, surprised by what this filipino woman notices. “They know I’m OK.”

“How?”

“They do, OK” Walt was getting agitated. “Uncle Sam hasn’t told them I’m dead, so I must be OK!”

Lilibeth kept pushing as she thought of her next move. “Well, tell me about them. I told you all about my family. I’m running out of things to say.” she complained.


“I’d like to see that,” He chided the friendly nurse.

Lilibeth swatted him lightly in the back of the head and gave a snorting laugh. “If I’m silent it means I’m upset. You don’t want me silent, Walt.”

“I’m sure you’re a five foot terror.” He scoffed, but with maybe a hint of a smile.

“You’re so secretive, Walt.” She leaned into his ear. “Maybe you’re a spy.” She hissed the last word into his ear.


Walt scoffed, “Yeah, that’s me. I stepped on a landmine to earn their trust.” He gave a short laugh.

“Well, it worked on me,” and Lilibeth kissed him soundly on the cheek as she still pushed from behind.

She was sure he smiled, not a grimace or one of his half smiles with his sarcasm, but a blushing smile.


The next day Walt was staring out of the window at the risen sun. He was already in his robe and in the wheelchair as if ready to go. This was new, but he had a letter in his hand. Lili stood back but got into the side of his sight. Finally Walter noticed her.

“Lilibeth, you’re here.” He put a smile on for her.

“Good morning, Walt. You got a letter?” She said with interest. She believed Walt still had not written home.

He folded it up and quickly tucked it away in his robe. “It’s nothing, just stuff that finally caught up with me.”

“Everything’s alright?” she cocked her head and looked at him with concern.

He hesitated, “Sure. Let’s go eat.”


Walt was quiet through breakfast, but he was always quiet. He sat later in the ward for the rest of the day and bothered no one. He stared out the window or faced a wall. By this time everyone knew to leave him alone. He was Lilibeth’s problem. Walt would respond when she asked him direct questions, but the answers where short and he offered nothing. She decided to let him be. He wasn’t bothering anyone and Walt had a lot to sort out, she thought to herself.

- continued –

That evening was her night to sleep over. The nurses took turns staying in the ward in case their men had troubles with pain or an emergency. The bed lay behind a privacy curtain behind the desk near the door. All her G.I.s were medicated and asleep. Lili would have some hours before phantom pains or nightmares set in. The ones that woke up screaming were the worst. You had to go slow and remind them where they were, because for a while they’d still be in the fight.

She settled down with her uniform loosened and her shoes tidily put under the bed. Just as she was nodding off she heard it. It was faint, barely a noise, but in the stillness of a sleeping hospital it may as well be applause. Someone was crying. A restrained weeping as they tried to hold back the tears; It disturbed the rhythm and made it more noticeable.

The petite pinay put her stockinged feet to the floor and padded softly across the cool white tiles soundlessly. The noise echoed a little, but there was only one direction to go. She reached the east end and knew for sure. It was Walter, he lay on his side and tried to cry into the pillow. Her heart broke for him. Her brave warrior had finally folded and began acceptance. It would heal him but it was still hard.

“Walt?” She quietly announced. ‘never sneak up on them,’ she had learned that early. “Walter?” She sat gently behind him and just put her small hand on his back.

“Go away.” The marine squeaked out.

Lilibeth didn’t move, but she didn’t say anything either. She just began to rub his back, up and down his spine; her palm slid along his skin. She couldn’t help it and let her fingers run into the close crop of the bottom of his hair on his neck. Walt lay in his sorrow and didn’t react.  Still she stayed caressing her wounded warrior, the devil dog who fought to free her home.

“Walt, you can talk to me. It’s just Lilibeth.” She offered.

Walt hesitated a long time. “I should have died, it would have been easier to die.” He spoke to the wall. “Half a man... I should have died.”

She was taken back by his statement even though she had expected it. “Walt, look at me.” Lilibeth tugged on his shoulder until he rolled toward her. “You are a WARRIOR.” she said with strength. “A fighter, a defender, a protector. None of that changes because you are wounded.”

Walt sat up still looking at her. “I was a warrior.” He cast his eyes down to his missing parts. “Now I am this.”

Lilibeth made a decision and laid a hand upon his cheek. She looked into his sad eyes there in the moonlight and slowly moved in and kissed him. It was gentle and sensual. Her lips brushed his and lingered on his upper lip. Her nose brushed his cheek as she pressed harder.

Walt was caught off guard and sat motionlessly. The smell of the oleander and her musk filled his senses, but still he broke the kiss. “What are you doing?”

Lili gave just a slightly crooked grin. “Reminding you that you’re a man.”  She used her mother’s words and kissed him again, putting his unresisting hand on her modest breast. Walt didn’t stop her but sat passively taking in all that was Lilibeth, her smell, her warmth, the feel of her through the dress and bra. He tasted her on the kiss and looked into her chocolate drop eyes. When she broke it she smiled dreamily and again her hand went to his bristle haired neck. Now she pressed herself to him and Walt did what a man should do; He wrapped her in his arms as she leaned across the bed and into him. He held her slim body and took charge of the kiss. She was so slender his fingers came back around to her ribs and she was light in his embrace. He pressed her lips until she opened up and they shared the kiss of the soul. She clung to him, trying to be careful of the places still held with stitches. Her arm under his shoulder and the other played with the nape of his neck.

“Lilibeth” He said softly in adoration when they broke the kiss.

The sweet pinay girl looked up at him. “Walt.” she answered. “Always a man.”

When he kissed her again her hand trailed down his gown and found his still flaccid tool, but a few kisses was hardly a test. With a few gentle rubbings through the cloth she began to feel it swell. Walter kissed her harder and Lilibeth reached underneath and tickled the sensitive head. It took time to grow, but he was a man as all men are; She knew.

 She felt it slowly swell against her palm as their kiss held. Walt’s fingers roamed down her back to her bent rump. She rested in his arms and let her hands roam his body. She knew where all his stitches were and was careful of them, but she caressed his skin with the softness of a rose. His furred torso trembled under her care. She felt his fingers slip under her dress and slide into her garter belt. Now it was her turn to tremble.

He finally broke the kiss, “It’s been a long time.”

Lilibeth nodded as she looked up shyly at him, “For me too.”

Walt just smiled at that and dove into her neck. The scent of oleander filled his nose and intoxicated him. Her hair was so soft on his face, like fine silken threads. Lili threw her head back in bliss and moaned softly as he nibbled her throat. Her tickling fingers had gone to full grasp and she softly squeezed the member in her hand. It strengthened and hardened as she knew it would. Her other hand held onto Walt’s neck as she stroked the bristled hairs. She felt his tongue and teeth and he even nibbled at her ear. Walt’s fingers followed the curve of her bottom and slid along the cleft of her cheeks. His big hand gripped it easily and pulled gently on her butt, separating the twin globes and methodically rubbing her ass.

She kept her hand away from his testes and held his dick upward. Gently she pumped his engorging cock and felt it grow to full length. It was thick and veined and felt so warm and alive. She smiled inwardly at Walt’s fears, “There was nothing wrong with this man.” she thought. Walt for his part ran his fingers deeper in her crack, finding the pressed together lips of her slippery folds. He took a moment to lick his fingertips and dove them back to their purpose. He ran them just up and down along their crease, teasing the puffy lips and revelling in her silky straight hairs. Slowly he brought his hand forward around her supple thigh and Lilibeth cocked her leg for him. Walt pressed his palm to her warm sex and the satiny feel of the dark fur there. He rubbed her mound and let his fingers glide along the now slightly parted flesh.

Lilibeth pulled herself gently from his embrace and quietly got off the bed. They never stopped looking at each other though and Walt knew from her sultry stare that she wasn’t going anywhere. With so little sound she pulled the curtain around the hospital bed and then began unbuttoning the white uniform. The marine watched her in the moonlight as she pushed it past her shoulders. She wore no bra for her small pert breasts and Walt suddenly found himself hungry for them. She stepped out of the one piece garment and stood in her white stockings and garter belts. The contrast against her copper skin was angelic and Walt marvelled at the sight.

Softly she climbed back on the bed, her hands gently pressing at his thick shoulders as they tenderly kissed. Walt lay down and let his hands go to her slim hips. They still stared at each other as she hovered over him, her sweet kisses coming repeatedly. Slowly she reached between her own legs to find him standing like a flag pole, sturdy and straight. There were no more words but her searching eyes said so much. He felt the wetness as she rubbed the firm head along her lips. Her warrior moaned just a little and Lili smiled before pressing down onto that thick head.

She gasped as it split her hole. Its thickness was a wanted surprise. Walt watched her close her eyes and put her head back as she slowly sank down upon him. His hands on her hips, he encouraged her downward until she nestled her silken sex upon his. They lay there for a moment, attached and flesh to flesh, resting her head on his large chest. In response he wrapped his arms around his angel of mercy and held her while his cock pulsed with life that he thought was gone.

Eventually she looked up and gently began to move. Lilibeth rocked forward along his body while he gripped her slim bottom. He felt her silken sleeve pull at his cock and watched the face of his new lover. He wanted to slam her back down upon it, but let her ride slowly. Lilibeth kept the pace and softly mewed each time she nearly pulled him out and gave the most contented sigh every time she slid back down. With her slow fucking the bed didn’t creak and they listened to each other's quiet gasps and shudders. They both stopped in alarm and then smiled wickedly as they heard a snort followed by shifting in the bed next to them.

Walt pulled her up nearly taking her off his dick and kissed her deeply. Lilibeth rolled her hips and strained to stretch down on his staff. When he finally let her go she plunged back down and seated him so deeply inside of her again. Now she started to rock. Their mashed together groins rubbing and colliding. The steel framed bed did groan, but Walt gripped the head rails to silence the high pitched creak.

“Let it.” She pleaded softly, “Grab me like before.”

Walt easily obliged and grabbed her little butt, gripping the flesh as it rocked and moved. The Pinay woman rode him with passion and her kisses covered his chest. He could see the strain on her face as she built the tempo higher. He could sense the need in her moves. With only one leg he could still buck up into her as she moved back down his cock. Holding her ass and driving that last inch on every down thrust, Lili bit her lip whenever he bottomed out inside of her. Walt’s hands held both cheeks as their loins smacked against each other. Suddenly she shuddered over top of him and her pussy gripped him tight. Her head hung down as they waited in silence

The bed frame stopped creaking, but it was the springs turn now as Lilibeth sat up upon him. Walt looked at his angel as she moved up and down now, her legs astride him. He reached up to cup her small breasts. Lilibeth moved her arms up and lifted her dark hair, relishing in her own body. Her orgasm was a welcome release after months of tension, frustration and worry. Now she rode this marine like a bull. The springs squealed and she didn’t care. She looked down on the fallen warrior with lust and love and vowed to give him release like she had just had. If before was gentle the ride now was wild and urgent. Walt watched that dark thatched pussy move up and down his pole. His fingers kneaded the supple flesh of her modest bosom while she lifted and dropped her hips.

She wasn’t heavy on him and he still could buck up inside her. His own need was building so he let his hands trail down to her white stocking covered thighs and again met her rhythm. He helped to pull her down as he thrust up. Lilibeth bounced on his lap with joy and abandon. His thick cock filled her needful sex and she wanted so much more. She wanted to feel the gush of his love inside of her. While he thrusted upwards his copper toned beauty would grind upon him in a counterclockwise circle, sending jolts up through her spine.

Walt wanted to be on top, but with one leg he thought better of it. Lili could feel just how strong his erection was and tried to grip it tighter within herself. Leaning forward she put her hands on the head rail and concentrated on the rhythm of the ride. Walt gazed up at her small chest and with his hands locked on her hips he concentrated on the tingle in his cock. With his legs kept wide his injured scrotum had stayed out of the way, and by this point he wasn’t even thinking about it.

Walt grunted beneath her and pushed her name through his lips. “Lili”

Her hair flying and beads of sweat on her face she smiled down at him. She knew she had him so close, but wanted her own orgasm too. “Wait for me.”

Just the sight of her rocking over top of him was pushing him to the brink. Walt closed his eyes and thought of baseball. It wasn’t helping with Lili’s pants of breath above him. He felt so close and then she started to come.

“Lili!” he got out before he fired.

On his first shot she slid forward letting the hard tool spring out of her, then she slid back to feel the pulsing manhood against her puffy, hot pussy. It ejaculated up and onto her little butt. Walt still tried to buck against her as he spurt out his load. Lilibeth dropped down and ground her whole body against him and passionately kissed his lips. Months and months of frustration for both of them surged out like flood waters as they moved against each other. He felt her grind her mound into his and then give a final shudder.

They lay panting against each other with short Lilibeth’s head on his chest. Walt’s arms stroked up her sides sending little shivers through her. She finally turned her head to give him her white smile.

“You see, Walt, still a man.” she said assuredly.

Walt didn’t smile back but thought for a second. “But you had to help.” he countered.

Now she gave a sly little grin, “A woman always helps.”


The End.

The pain was swift. It was quick. The light was bright and the thunderous noise came after.

In those few unexpected seconds my life was over. One minute I was walking to work in the bustling street going about my normal business like any other day and the next, my world was flattened and powdered in a grey dust. Swirls of dusty particles danced in the air and there was a stench of burnt meat.

Time seemed to go slow as my brain lazily registered that the rubble of fallen buildings and dust around me was the street, where shops and trams had once been busy. People and things had just been zapped and vaporised and others had fallen, like me, charred and dying.

I had been blown right off my feet. I was face down. My body could only move slightly, more writhing on the ground. My hands were black, outstretched as I tried to move and stand. My skin had melted. I was unsure what had happened. I was scared and wondered what I must look like; but then my mind went back in that strange, short time between life and death. That time where your life flashes between your eyes. It seems to be in slow motion going round like a soumatou. 

A saumatou was a two-layered lantern. The inner layer revolved and had images cut into it and was such that when it turned, the shapes appeared to move around the lantern. The slow moving shapes were images of my life.

The Images of my life revolved like that through my mind, speeding up a little and I felt an eerie calmness as I watched.

Now they came more into focus and flickered, like a cinema reel and was a personal film of my life.  My parents and my siblings were laughing and joking and looking towards me as the camera. I saw them more clearly. They were seen in jerky, sticky movements. Special days:  weddings, births, deaths and funerals; then my own wedding day. All important times in my life.

Then it slowed, slowed to one of my favourite memories of all times…

It was a beautiful summer day, by the river. The butterflies bounced softly from flower to flower, the bees gently buzzed about their nectar business and the birds were singing their joy of another sun filled, happy day. The trickle of the water made it one of the most beautiful days of my life. Occasionally the sound of a plopping fish could be heard as it jumped from the water and splashed back in again.

He was with me of course. The most handsome, funny, clever and wise man, I had ever had the good fortune to meet.

We were lying in the long green and yellow grass, enjoying the day and each other’s company. We looked into each other’s eyes and then kissed.

His lips devoured mine in a sensuality that took my breath away and his hands began a slow explore that had me screaming for more. Barely taking a second for our lips to separate, he edged down and grabbed the hem of my dress, a red qipao patterned in a splattering of small gold flowers. He lifted it over my head in one swooping movement. I was naked much to his delight. I was small enough to get away with not wearing any underwear and only a lover would get close enough to find out.

We returned to our embrace. I pushed him back, gently but firmly until he fell back on the mossy grass. We looked at each other, desire arcing between our bodies. He unbuttoned his trousers and I pulled them down his legs, revealing his hardness. He took off his shirt and soon I was on top of him, kissing his mouth, his neck and nibbling his ears. I blew and let my warm breath ripple along his skin. He moaned and smiled, letting me love him.

I aligned myself so my swollen clitoris was rubbing against his shaft, his fingernails glided along my back. Our lovemaking was too important to skimp on foreplay usually, but I had decided we had been teasing each other for hours, walking along the river, fluttering our eyes, little touches and smiles with flirty words. I reached between my legs and led his cockhead to my wet opening.

I groaned deeply as he entered me, going slowly, allowing me to stretch and welcome him. We kissed, we always kissed and he loved to taste my mouth.

I sat up, eager to take him in fully. He loved to watch my beautiful small breasts, still quite firm, as I gyrated and danced on top of him. I reached for his hands, moved them to feel my tits. His touch was so desirable. Then, linking his hands with mine, I moved them back, up over his head and grasped each one on to the grass. I let my breasts tease and brush his lips. I held his hands down firmly, it gave me added leverage as I rode him.

He eventually pulled one hand free and moved it down to our joined bodies. He took some of my wetness from his shaft and coated my clitoris before massaging it. Soon I felt an orgasm building deep within, starting from my toes and my moans grew louder as it reached my mons. Our secluded surround allowed me to be as vocal as I wanted. I moaned and announced to nature, my pleasure with a freedom I found exhilarating.

I collapsed against him, still working my pelvis, "I love you Tsutomu," I whispered in his ear.

“I love you too wife,” he whispered back.

I again sat up and my brown eyes locked on his. "Are you ready to seal our love?" I murmured softly. I moved on him faster until I felt his cock twitch and he let out groans of his own. Soon I felt his warmth fill me and I smiled when he growled my name in rapture, “Naoko! My heart, my love.”

Again I kissed his mouth as my pelvis slowly milked every last drop of semen from his cock.

We fell asleep to the sound of the water trickles, the bouncing colourful butterflies on the flowers, the soft hum of wandering bees and the gentle caress of the summer breeze. How different it was then. How idyllic. War had a way of making you appreciate things more, for my precious soldier husband had to leave soon after. The Emperor wanted him and lots of young men to return and report for duty in his Imperial Army.

As my life ebbed away and I took my final rasping breath, I sent a last prayer to him, “Don’t come back to Hiroshima, it’s not safe my love. Goodbye my darling. Remember me. Remember us with a smile. Tsutomu, I love you always.”

Somewhere in the jungle of the Far East, the fruit bats in the trees were restless and suddenly took flight as though sensing something terrible and catastrophic had happened. Their large wings, chirps and screeches filled the skies in their skittish flight before eventually settling back down again in the trees, still wittering, still complaining, the sound slowly dying down again.

At the same time they suddenly left their branches, a soldier suddenly felt a terrible sense of loss and shuddered. He saw the startled fruit bats fill the skies. He knew something awful had happened at home. The feeling was overwhelming. Tsutomu did not know why he knew, he just did. The feeling had seeped right through to his spiritual soul.

Tsutomu shivered again in the tropical heat. As the bats began to settle again, a cold emptiness seemed to wrap around his heart. He knew somehow he would never see his wife, Naoko, again. It was the moment her prayer had landed on him to keep him safe. He looked up to the heavens.

“Naoko, I love you my darling,” he whispered to the clouds, tears trickling down his face. He thought he saw her wispy face form in the blue sky for a moment.

“I love you always,” she seemed to mouth before disappearing forever.

The date was Monday August 6, 1945.

This date was to make history. On this day in 1945, at 8:16 a.m. Japanese time, the American B-29 bomber, the Enola Gay, dropped the world's first atom bomb, codenamed “Little Boy,” over the city of Hiroshima.

Approximately 80,000 people were killed as a direct result of the blast, and another 35,000 were injured. At least another 60,000 would be dead by the end of the year from the effects of the fallout.

U.S. President Harry S. Truman was discouraged by the Japanese none response to the Potsdam Conference’s demand for unconditional surrender to the United States, Great Britain and China. He therefore made the decision to use the atom bomb to end the war and so prevent what he predicted would be a much greater loss of life were the United States to invade the Japanese mainland.

When the second bomb, codenamed “Fat Boy” after Winston Churchill was dropped over the city of Nagasaki on Thursday 9 August 1945 three days later, it worked.

Japan surrendered to the Allies on Tuesday 14 August 1945.  The war was over.

World War II was the deadliest military conflict in history in absolute terms of total dead. Over 60 million people were killed, which was about 3% of the 1940 world population, estimated as 2.3 billion at the time.

Albert Einstein once said, “I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.”

Lest we ever forget.


The  End.

Men shouted and screamed. A child's cry could be heard among the din. The rat-tat-tat of machine gun fire rang through the air.  Nausea came with each shock wave as another mortar round fell near.  Every artillery burst sent more shrapnel slicing through bodies.  Private Liebgut held his helmet loosely at his side. His M1 lay forgotten in the rubble at his feet. The dark eyes stared blankly down on Christelle's shattered face, laying beneath some of the rubble. 

About an hour ago, he had given her the small diamond ring that now glinted from the fires around her broken body.  He couldn't believe it was there on her finger, her dead finger.  A shot rang out clearly in the night, bringing him back to the battle that raged around him.  It was too late!  Just as he started to move his skull exploded into a red mist of broken skull fragments, grey matter, white matter, and blood.  His body crumpled next to the woman he had planned to wed.

The sun beat down on the range as the rapid sounds of gun fire filled the air with a cacophonous din.  Men could be heard shouting up and down the line as the recruits aimed their rifles and fired down range.  Sweat dripped down their foreheads and into their eyes as they squinted in the bright sunlight.  As a soldier in the 45th Infantry division, Private Liebgut had been moved to Camp Barkeley for advanced infantry training in 1942 with the rest of the division.  He had enlisted in his home town of Fort Sill, OK thinking that if he joined the guard unit there, he wouldn't have to go to war whenever the US joined. 

He completed the basic training at Fort Sill with the rest of the division after they were federalized becoming an active unit in the US Army.  As far as Liebgut could tell, this was really just an extension of his basic training.  The only thing that had changed was their location.  Squeezing the trigger, his M1 Garand infantry rifle sent lead down towards his target, 25 meters down range.  The effect seemed almost instantaneous from the time he squeezed the trigger to the time the hole appeared in the silhouette target.  Assigned to the 157th Infantry Regiment in his division, Liebgut belonged to a rifle squad, and he was one of the best marksmen in the company.  Today, he was showing that to his sergeants as the prowled up and down the firing line, yelling at any private making a mistake.  Squinting, he squeezed off another round, barely missing dead center.

Private Liebgut couldn't remember the last time he was dry.  The Division had moved to Fort Devens MA.  They were practicing amphibious assault training in preparation for the invasion of Italy.  Of course, being a private in his company, Liebgut had no idea what the bigger plans were.  All he knew was that the training involved getting in and out of boats, and “running” through the water as they mock assaulted beaches

Cold weather training in Pine Camp NY was even worse.  Private Liebgut knew he should not have made those comments about it couldn't get any worse.  Now, he was cold, wet, and miserable.  At least back at Fort Devens, he was only wet and miserable.

They had received their orders, and they now knew they were heading for Italy.  The entire Division was boarding the transport ships Hampton Roads Port of Embarkation.  It was 1943, and it was just over two years since Liebgut had gotten on the bus to take him out to the training grounds at Fort Sill. 

Now, he was a trained US soldier heading across the world to fight on foreign soil.  The other men in his squad were pressed in against him as headed up the gang plank to his transport ship.  Carrying his duffel bag over his shoulder with everything he owned in it, he looked at America for the last time.  He wouldn't be able to get up on deck as the ship shoved off.  He was too busy throwing up in the latrine (head as the sailors called it) from the movement of the ship.  If he had known he would never see America again, he probably would have just puked over the side of the ship.

It had been a long and brutal war.  The division had been kept in reserve while in Africa, awaiting the invasion of Italy.  However, they took a lead role in the invasion of Sicily, landing near Scoglitti on the 10th of July, 1943.  This was the first combat the 45th had seen since being activated.  It wouldn't be the last.  They pushed northward, participating in their second amphibious landing of the war.  On 10 September 1943, they landed in Agropoli and Paestum as the Fifth Army (the Army that the 45th Infantry Division was assigned to) prepared to assault Salerno.  They moved up the boot to the Gustav Line, where the 45th Infantry Division was used to land behind the German troops at Anzio on 22 January 1944.  This played an integral role in the battle of Monte Cassino, some of the fiercest fighting in Italy.  One major achievement for the 45th Division was being the first military unit to enter the Vatican.

On August 15, 1944 at St. Maxime, the 45th Infantry Division conducted its fourth amphibious landing of the war.  Miraculously, Libegut had gone through all of that fighting without a scratch.  The men of his unit considered him their lucky charm.

“Stay close to Liebgut, and you'll come out without a scratch!”
 
It was good natured ribbing, and Liebgut took it in stride. 

For his part, he killed the German soldiers with a passion.  He rarely missed when he shot, and he was always requesting more ammunition whenever they were passing it out.  Operation Dragoon was different though.  While engaged in a small running fire fight against the retreating Germans, Liebgut had been grazed by a bullet.  It didn't bring him off the line, but he was wounded again.  A piece of shrapnel had embedded itself in his left shoulder. 

While waiting in a field hospital, Liebgut first met Christelle.  She was his nurse for the first day, and he fell in love with her immediately.

Christelle was used to these young men coming through the hospital.  They all fell in love with her, and they were all gone just as quickly.  She didn't even take notice of their efforts to seduce her anymore.  However, something about this Liebgut was different.  He only spent a couple of days in the hospital as a patient.  However, every time he got a chance, he would visit her in the field hospital.  He was certainly a charmer.  He would pick wild flowers on his way to the hospital, and present them to her with a flourish or a magic trick every time.  His persistence paid off, for she finally consented to heading into the local French town with her.  She went on the promise that he would not try to speak any more French to her though.  Typically, he butchered her native tongue so badly that she didn't know what he was even trying to say.

As the front pushed north and west, the field hospital kept relocating along with the 45th Infantry Division.  Christelle realized that she was actually falling in love with this brash American.  They were strolling through Rambervillers, waiting for the rest of the allies to catch up.  He was in his OD's (olive drabs) holding her hand as they talked idly about their lives. 

Liebgut explained how he grew up on a farm outside of Fort Sill, and why he had enlisted.  Christelle spoke of life under German occupation, and how she had trained to be a nurse while waiting for the liberation that was a long time in coming. 

“Johnny,” she said, “What will you do after the war?”
“I was wondering when you might bring this up?  Christelle, mon amour, Je t'aime! Veux-tu m'épouser?”  As he asked her to marry him, professing his love, he knelt down on his right knee in the dirt road. 

From the right pocket of his uniform blouse he had produced a glittering diamond ring.  This he held up to her.  The lights of the artillery in the distance glinted gleefully off the beautiful stone set in the golden band.  It was truly a simple ring, but in the darkness of the French village lit by the occasional flash of a bomb it shown as brilliantly as any star in the night sky. 

“Oui!”  She cried happily, as she allowed him to place the ring on her finger. 

He stood up and cradled her gently in his arms as their lips pressed tightly together.  All the sounds of the war in the distance faded to nothing as the kiss lingered. 

When their lips parted, “Johnny, will you take me to the America with you.  I don't care if I never see France again.  I want to live with you on your farm, and have a large family.  I want our children to grow up in a free land.”

“Of course mon amour.”  He pressed his lips to hers again wrapping his arms around her tightly.  So, it turned into erotic petting.  His hands went up and down the wool shawl she wore over her nurse's uniform.  Christelle's hands too began to roam over Liebgut's uniform.  He had been respectful to her from the day they met, but after she had accepted his proposal there was a passion inside them that needed to be let out. 

Liebgut's hands slipped under the shawl and began working to untie the white apron.  Once it was free, he started to slide it up and over her head, letting it fall to the dirt of the road they were currently standing in the middle of. 

“Johnny, we can't.  Not here.”  Her voice said no, but her body and eyes said she wanted nothing more.

“It's OK mon amour, I know a place.”  He took her by the hand, and they lightly ran down the road towards and partially bombed out building. 

The light of a couple candles flickered in a room near the back of the building.  The room had no windows which to let the light out, so they were safe from snipers or other enemy spotters.  A green army blanket covered a small portion of the floor.  Two badly dented army field cups sat on the blanket, with a French planter sitting on the blanket.  Sticking out of the top of the blanket was the neck of a bottle of wine.  There was no label on the bottle, but the wine inside of the bottle was a deep blood red.

As Christelle looked down at the room, a drip of the tallow from the burning candles dripped onto the floor.  “You had this planned.”
“Of course I did.  I was hoping that you'd say yes.”

She didn't know if she should be offended or flattered.  Obviously he intended to bed her tonight.  “So you assumed I would sleep with you when saying yes?”

He stammered, slightly taken aback, this wasn't how it was supposed to go.  “I, well, uh, that is...”

“It's OK.”  She slipped her shoes off, leaving them by the edge of the blanket as she walked towards the wine. 

As she stepped forward, she pulled the blue nurses dress up and over her head.  She wore only a pair of white cotton briefs beneath the dress.  Stockings were almost non-existent since the Germans had invaded, and braziers were a scarce luxury as well.  “Pour for me Johnny.”

He needed no more encouragement.  As he rounded the blanket, he managed to work his boots off, dropping them haphazardly beside the blanket.  Liebgut had forgotten a cork screw, so he used one of the rounds for his M-1 to push the cork into the bottle.  Gently he poured the wine into each of the cups, and they drank together, toasting their engagement.

After the first cup, he went to pour more of the fermented grapes, but Christelle stopped him, “No more.”  She rose up onto her knees.  He could clearly see that the cool night air was chilling her skin.  The nipples of her breasts were rock hard.  Reaching out, she began working the buttons of his military blouse until it hung open.  Gently she ran her hands up under the blouse and over his shoulders, pushing the blouse down and off his back.  Her lips pressed lightly to the skin of his neck.  He could feel an electric charge course through his body as the excitement of her touch set him off.

He crossed his arms in front, untucking and grabbing the bottom of his undershirt.  Quickly he pulled it off over his head.  The muscles of his bare chest rippled in the candle light as Christelle draw her fingers down across his chest.  He reached out and cupped her breasts gently, leaning in to kiss her at the same time.  As their lips played against each other, Christelle reached down and unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers.

As the green pants slid off, they laid against each other onto the blanket.  The bulge in his underpants was quite apparent.  His large cock pitched a tent as well as any army unit could accomplish.  This he pressed against her mons while they embraced gently on the floor.  She moaned out lightly as his shaft pressed against.  She ached to feel it penetrating inside of her.  Sliding gently along the soft pink folds of her labia.  Quickly her pussy became wet just thinking about having his massive cock inside of her. 

Softly she moaned into his ear, “Make love to me!”

Rolling he brought himself on top of her.  His lips worked gently down her cheeks to her jaw bone.  Lightly he ran his tongue down the side of her neck.  His lips danced playfully down her chest to her right breast.  There, his tongue circled around her nipples before he clamped his mouth onto the breast and began suckling.  All the while he continued grinding his hips against hers.  Her moans were becoming louder and more longing for the love they were about to make.  Walking his lips across her chest with little kisses, Liebgut shifted his attention to her left breast.  Every touch of his body against hers brought Christelle to new heights of arousal.  Her pussy was getting more and more wet by the minute.  Even the white cotton of her panties were getting moist, darkening with the evidence of her arousal.

As he played with her breasts, a hand moved down and began to caress the sweet spot through her panties. 

“Gently my love,” she said, “it's my first time.” 

Not wanting to stop his ministrations to her breasts, he only nodded an assent. 

Softly he pet the panties, getting them even wetter with each stroke.  Once her moans had reached a level that could no longer be called soft, he gently slid them to the side.  The tips of his fingers traced lightly up and down her labia.  Each time he found her clitoral hood, Christelle felt a jolt go through her whole body.  It felt exquisite, and she wanted more.  Her legs spread apart more, to allow him easier access.  He couldn't believe how wet she was, nor how easily his finger slid into her when he decided to push one in.  His middle finger slid in as far as it possibly could go as easily as a bayonet slides into the enemy.  As loud gasping moan escaped from her lips as she experienced her first ever penetration.


- Continued -

Slowly he wiggled the digit back and forth as he gently pulled it in and out of her virgin pussy.  He could feel the fleshy folds marking the g-spot inside of her with the tip of the middle finger.  She responded beautifully to his touch.  Her whole body shivered and she moaned with ecstasy.  Christelle began to relax, and he could feel the change in the kegels.

Sensing the relaxation, he took the opportunity to slide a second finger in with the first. 
“Oh my, that's so good!” 

That was all the encouragement he needed.  He worked the fingers in and out, wiggling them back and forth at the same time.  Hopefully, she would enjoy what was coming next.

His lips moved off of her breast and kissed their way down towards the mons. 
“Where're you going mon cher?”

“Trust me, you're going to love this!”  With that, he slid his tongue over the clitoral hood. 

The fingers never stopped working in and out of the wet pussy.  Her moan was the best one yet, and Christelle felt like a pure bolt of lightning had just struck her.  It was the most exquisite lightening in the world.  The feeling of drifting on the clouds came over her as his tongue played against her clit and his fingers played in her vagina.  All the experience he had with those girls in high school was definitely paying off now.  He could feel her excitement.  As her body tensed and trembled, Liebgut realized he was nearing her first orgasm.  He wondering what it would be like.

He didn't have to wait long.  As his tongue slid up and down the labia and across the clitoral hood, she began to rock her hips involuntarily.  The moans piercing the night were reaching a crescendo, nearly managing to drown out the distant sounds of the battle. 

The two lovers had only enough attention to pay to each other though, and for them, everything else in the world was already drown out.  An explosion of vaginal ejaculate exploded against Liebgut's face as she cried out in ecstasy.
 
“Oh mon Dieu! Mon cher!  Mon Dieu, mon Dieu!”  Her first orgasm gushed onto the blanket and her lover as she clamped her legs around her his ears, holding him tightly in the throes of orgasm.

Once she stopped thrashing about, he gently slid his fingers from inside of her pussy.  Taking a hold of her panties, Liebgut drew them down her legs and tossed them off to the side of the blanket.  They were as thoroughly soaked as his face and the blanket are.  He rose up onto his knees and shifted his own underwear down.  Once they were far enough down he sat back on his butt and pulled them off, tossing them to the side.  Her chest was still heaving from the throws of her orgasm as he slid his militarily trim body back on top of hers.  All nine inches of his cock was wedge between his body and hers, pressing against her very wet labia.  She moaned even more. 

“I told you, you'd like it!”

“Oui!  Oui!  Now, I want to feel you inside of me.”  She raised her legs up and wrapped them around his hips, pulling him tighter into her. 

He shifted his hips just enough. The tip of his cock slid down her wet pussy touching against her clit.  Almost like a flick, his erect shaft pushed into her slick fleshy folds. 

As he pushed his hips forward, driving the cock deep into her, she moaned into his ear, “Je t'aime!”

Leaving his cock buried to the hilt inside of her pussy, “I'm so glad you said yes!  I'll love you until the day we die!”
 
She moaned out in pleasure and he began to slide his hips back, drawing the thick shaft of his cock out of her.  Just as the tip was about to come out completely, he began pushing it forward again, sliding himself back inside of her.  Their lips played together, and their tongues finally slid out and met each other as he began to push and pull his thick cock in and out of her. 

It was slow and deliberate, designed to draw the experience out.  He was well and truly making love to her.  This was new ground for him, but she was enjoying it.  Her body, her moans, the hands scratching down his back, her lips and tongue against his, all told him this was the right way to make love.  Her body was beginning to tremble yet again, just as it had before her very first orgasm.

He could feel the tensing of her muscles.  Kegels began to clamp down on his cock as the shaft slid in and out of her pussy.  The increased friction was all she could take.  Crying out loudly as she pulled her lips away from his, another orgasm raced through her body.  The squelching of her ejaculation could be heard as he held his cock deep inside of her.

He smiled down at her.  “You're truly amazing mon cher!”
“You make me feel so good.  But I want to feel you cum in me now.”

Giggling, he rolled them both so that she was now on top of him.  His small body was very strong thanks to the years of physical condition in the Army and the intense fighting.  Rolling them around to this position was quite easy for him.  Her own laughter joined his at the completion of the roll.  The new position allowed a new dynamic of how his cock was penetrating inside of her.  Instinctively, she began rocking her hips back and forth.  He started to moan in pleasure himself as he pussy slid along his thick hard shaft.  The hot, wet folds swallowed his cock hungrily with each thrust.

Soon, she was leaning back and riding his cock like a pro.  His hands slid up her sides and began fondling her breasts.  Her breasts were not large, but they were firm and round as any young girls typically were.  The ravages of age had not yet begun to touch Christelle's body.  Living life under the German occupation had kept her body very trim, and the new work as a nurse with the field hospital for the 45th Infantry Division had helped tone things up a bit.  Private Liebgut marvelled at them as the bounced and swayed with the grinding of her hips against his.  His hands groped, fondled, cupped, and in all other ways continued to play with those beautiful rounded mounds of flesh.  Pinching the nipples between his forefinger and thumb, he started the roll the rock hard nipples back and forth.  The nipples were now hardened from arousal instead of the cold.  The two lovers were making enough heat with their bodies that beads of sweat were running across their smooth skin.

As their bodies moved against each other, their moaning grew louder and louder.  Liebgut knew he was nearing fruition, but he wanted to keep this going.  He wasn't ready to return to war just yet.  For him, there was no war, no death, no bombs, and no bullets.  For him, there was only his fiancée, Christelle. 

He could feel each thrust of her hips as she rode on his cock.  Her own body was bracing itself for another orgasm itself.  A couple more thrusts of the hips, a few more moans, and she was gushing out another orgasm.  Liebgut could feel it running down the creases of his groin and along his ass.  It was such an intense feeling.  It was a sheer act of true willpower that kept him from releasing his own orgasm.

Christelle had her head rocked back, her long dark brown hair slightly tickling his balls.  Now that the orgasm had passed, she slumped forward, her breasts pushing into the muscles of his chest. 
“That was truly amazing mon amour!” 

The two lovers lay with their bodies intertwined for a few minutes before Christelle sat up and got off to the side.  There she placed herself on her hands and knees while looking back over her shoulder.  “Johnny, I want you to fuck me like one of your American girls now.”

Her meaning was clear as a bell, and he quickly got himself onto his knees behind her.  There was no need for any lubrication.  The squirting orgasms he had induced in her so far had made sure that everything slid against each other nearly frictionless.  As he brought himself up to her, Liebgut pushed the entire length of his thick shaft deep into her pussy.  The tip of the cock touched the cervix inside of her with his angle of penetration, and Christelle moaned out with the penetration.

Liebgut knew that he was nearing his own orgasm, but he wanted to be able to let her enjoy the doggy style a little more.  With a great effort of willpower he slowed himself down.  His thick, hard cock slid out of the extremely wet pussy with slow deliberate strokes.  Just as the head of his penis was about to pull out of the labia, he would ram his hips forward with a powerful thrust.  Christelle cried out with the thrust.  He kept drawing it out slowly and then ramming it back home deeply inside of her.

Each of the thrusts rocked her forward on her hands and knees, swinging her hair forward.  She was moaning and panting loudly with her head hung down looking at her own breasts.

Without meaning to, he began to speed up the rhythm of his pulling out and thrusting forward.  It was only a matter of a couple minutes before he was fucking her wildly.  His own moans echoed in the small room with hers.  The moans were mixed with the sounds of the approaching war.  Rambervillers was under a counter-attack by the Germans.  The lovers in their passion we oblivious to the falling artillery as it approached their love nest.  With a last tremendous thrust that forced Christelle forward enough her arms collapsed to where she was resting on her elbows, Liebgut let forth a mighty moan of pleasure as he finally reached an orgasm.  His hot cum pumped deeply into her vagina, and quickly spilled over, dripping from her labia.  It was aided by Christelle's final orgasm.  Her gushing ejaculate was much less this time, after so many orgasms it was bound to be dwindling, aided in flushing his recently released seed from her pussy.

They both collapsed onto the blanket and lay there panting, spooning, in the candle light.  The bottle of wine was back in the bucket where they had left it, and their love making had caused the two cups to fall over, spilling their contents onto the blanket.  Slowly the world starting coming back to them. 

They were quickly reminded that they were in a war zone as artillery shells were raining close enough to shake the rafters of the building they were in. 

“Son of a bitch,” cried Liebgut!  “We're under attack.  We've gotta go!”

With the finely honed reflexes of a fighting man in the prime of his life, Liebgut was up and pulling his uniform back on.  Quick as a flash, his fingers were working the buttons and catches of his gear fastening it in place.  If his heart hadn't already been racing from his recent love making, it surely would be trying to pound its way of his chest.  Each explosion sounded closer than the last, and the rafters were raining dust down onto the two lovers incessantly.

Christelle was not as experienced in reacting quickly as her lover was.  She didn't have the years of training, discipline, and combat experience to help her as she tried to pull her cumbersome nurse's uniform back on.  Her blue dress was back on, and she was trying to pull the hem down into place at the same time she was trying to pull the apron over her head.  They had never removed her nurse's hat, and the apron was getting caught in the hat. 

Liebgut grabbed his rifle then walked over and pulled the apron from Christelle, “I hardly think it’s the time for that mon armour!”
“Forget the apron, we've gotta go, now!” 

She hadn't even put her shoes on and he was busy dragging her out of the building into the street.  A fierce battle was raging.  Heavy artillery was falling everywhere around the city.  Machine gun fire was mixed with rifle fire, and it sounded very close.  Liebgut was sure he could hear the clanking of tanks and the heavy cacophony made as they fired their cannons. 

Quickly he glanced around, deciding which way to take his fiancée so as to best protect her.  Just as he made up his mind a shell hit the building they had just been in directly.  The explosion knocked Liebgut off his feet and flung him across the street.  He was dazed by the blast, and picked himself up.  The training kicked in and he remembered to grab his helmet.  He turned back to see what had happened to Christelle.

Men shouted and screamed.  A child's cry could be heard among the din.  The rat-tat-tat of machine gun fire rang through the air.  Nausea came with each shock wave as another mortar round fell near.  Every artillery burst sent more shrapnel slicing through bodies.  Private Liebgut held his helmet loosely at his side.  His M1 lay forgotten in the rubble at his feet. 

The dark eyes stared blankly down on Christelle's shattered face, laying beneath some of the rubble.  About an hour ago, he had given her the small diamond ring that now glinted from the fires around her broken body.  He couldn't believe it was there on her finger, her dead finger. 
A shot rang out clearly in the night, bringing him back to the battle that raged around him.  It was too late!  Just as he started to move his skull exploded into a red mist of broken skull fragments, grey matter, white matter, and blood.  His body crumpled next to the woman's he had planned to wed.


The End.

Afghanistan’s rocky desert was completely still and silent. It stretched for many freezing miles in all directions and was strewn with ancient torn canyons and shifting sand dunes. Each feature was tantalisingly revealed in mysterious shapes of red, ochre and gold by the bright stars that punctuated the night sky and a low-hung sliver of dusty grey moonlight. It wasn't lifeless but it was hostile to any outside visitor.

The serene landscape was rudely disrupted by the thudding hiss of two black helicopters flying low level in formation at over two hundred miles per hour. The forward support chopper was the heavily armed and armoured Apache AH-64 with its two man crew from the Army Air Corps. The second was a nimble Westland Lynx, with its three man crew and its invaluable cargo of four lethal specialists.

"This is tiger two two. Perimeter in seven minutes." The gunnery officer behind the computer rattled off into her headset.

The illuminated display of instruments and screens cast colourful distortions on her reflective visor.

"Radar is clear, over" she continued. Her dark lips precisely enounced each word. Her voice was relaxed and captivating like the wisp of smoke from a hell fire rocket launcher. She switched to the night-vision camera and started panning the area.

John, the pilot stole a brief glance to his right. He hadn't known Chloe for that long but was impressed with the way she had handled herself on a previous mission. A confident and, either lucky or alarmingly good decision maker for such a young recruit, he recalled. She was only twenty five and adapted to the discipline of the British Army Air Corps life readily and eagerly.

She received a lot of attention, not only because she was an attractive female with a slim curvaceous figure or because she liked to use her tight combat attire to her advantage, but also because of the hard line she took with her fellow compatriots. He had witnessed a number of men lost for words or confounded by her rebukes only to be reduced further by her short cutting insults when they came back with any repost.

She had natural good looks and never wore makeup on duty. It wasn’t always the case but she had seen other army women focus far too long on their appearance, always rushing to maintain their glamour, occasionally leading to the detriment of the unit’s punctuality. Chloe always supported her female comrades but carefully advised them to spend more time on more practical routines.

As it was, the pilot had not engaged with her.
 
"Roger that!" He responded. "Heading to the DZ."

"Yes can do! Package inbound!" came the Lynx pilot's calm voice over the headset. He checked his instruments and called back into his mic. "Bravo team, approaching mailbox. Get ready to deploy"

"Hello Burt," said Jack informally. He sounded happy to hear his own voice on the airwaves. "We're good to go. I was getting bored of your inflight entertainment anyway."

The red light inside the cabin did little to highlight Jack's grimace. His hand was locked around the safety rail. He looked over his squad with careful eyes, taking in their expressions and mentally rehearsing the squad disembarkation protocols.

Jack had been briefed days preceding the flight. He had studied the array of satellite images with his commanders and discussed every detail from every angle. He lived for the planning. At first glance, to the untrained eye, it was nothing more than a simple opium farming village, but there was something not quite right about this place. It would have been overlooked if Intel had not intercepted a short mobile phone call of a known operative talking about the significance of a nearby location. Some unusual road traffic gave Intel its first suspicions but it was the layout of the village itself that demanded a closer look. Most settlements are a cosy rambling assembly of dried mud brick homes in welcoming orange. But somehow, this village looked too efficiently planned and had an unusual cluster around a larger central building.

The Lynx pilot showed his adept skills as he came in fast and low below the ridge line and eased the nose of the Lynx skyward to air brake gently. There was no hurry. This was the ideal drop zone. It was five clicks out from the surveillance area and the elite crew could make their final approach safely in the night, take in the lie of the land, create their invisible spy holes and watch. They would go unnoticed for two weeks in the target area. It was standard routine.

Jack got up from his seat and stood hunched as he slid open the side door and felt the bite of the frigid night air mixed with turbulent sand against his exposed hands and face as it billowed into the cabin. He squinted out across the barren rocks, getting his bearings.

"Thanks for ride!" Jack called into his mic.

Seconds later the Lynx lightly touched down onto the canyon floor.

"Good luck guys, see you in a fortnight." Burt replied. He turned to salute the crew.

Then the unexpected happened.

"Incoming! Incoming!" The urgent voice of the Apache pilot rang through the headphones. This was supposed to be a DMZ. There were no traces of activity in this area yet he saw the unmistakable trail of a rocket emerge from the canyon wall and heading straight for the grounded Lynx.

Jack was already clear, as his leader beckoned his men out and literally threw him through the exit. His boots hit the rocky stones and he was instinctively running towards the first point of cover when he heard the explosion behind him.

The grenade hit the far side of the helicopter square on and the energy ripped through the hull instantly. Fragments of metal and plastic flew through the interior, smashing and destroying anything in their path. The blast of air caught the underside of the rotors and the pressure kicked the chopper clean off the ground, flipping it into mid-air, and then dumping it ungraciously on its side. The four composite blades smashed into the ground with a deafening roar, pulverising rock to dust and shaking the helicopter into ugly pieces.

Chloe deftly slid the M230 joystick to her left, tracing the trajectory of the enemy rocket back to its origin. A number of pale grey specks barely hidden behind the rocks were visible on night vision. The under-mounted chain gun followed her movements precisely. She gently squeezed the trigger and laid down a blistering orange arc of 30mm gunfire. The pilot took her lead and adjusted his rear rotor with his pedals to angle his hellfire rocket salvos intent on obliterating the canyon from existence. But it was a canyon that was forged in hell. Another rocket came searing out from a hidden pocket in the canyon wall only a hundred meters from where the Apache was hovering.

The pilot pulled back on his stick but it was too late.

The Apache shook and protested angrily when the rear of the front cabin imploded and blew a rotor skyward. It lurched sideways and then sank suddenly. Chloe felt her heart leap as they fell, her finger knuckles white as she squeezed the life out of the trigger, as they spiralled downward. She blindly splayed bullets into every shadow while she still could. As the Apache spun she was unable to angle the gun correctly and reluctantly let go.

"Fuck! hit! hit!” she yelled as the ground loomed below. She braced forward and screamed.

Jack watched in horror as the Lynx folded and exploded into a fireball behind him, quickly followed by the sickening sight of the bulky Apache losing control and throwing itself into a deadly spin and slamming heavily into the ground like a tranquilliser dart to an elephant in mid must. He began edging his way back to the blazing inferno that was the Lynx. His thoughts were on his comrades, his friends. He must help them. His head clung to a vision that Mac, his commander would be ok. He was built like an ox, he was the invincible rock.

Jack didn't get too far before he shielded his face against the heat. He turned away and closed his eyes when he saw the lifeless bodies entangled in the burning wreckage.

He skirted around the wreck site once and then sank to his haunches. He paused a moment, punched the ground and took a long slow breath. Then he heaved himself up and, still crouching, made tracks down the canyon floor to the broken AH. He could hear the rotors still churning. At first he could see nothing but crackling flames, licking out of the rear of the inky blackness of the huge cockpit. He pulled open the door and was instantly relieved to see signs of life.

After impact, Chloe was rocked violently in her seat. Her helmet painfully smashed against her legs but after a moment of stunned silence she tried moving. Her muscles ached and protested but she sat up and reassessed the situation.

Her visor was dead. She ripped it off and looked to her pilot. He had been thrown sideways and was awkwardly hanging out of his seat by his safety belt. His head was twisted sideways, facing her and his eyes were open, staring at the floor.

"John! Talk to me john!" Her voice was holding back her panic.

Only his eyes balls moved. They rolled slowly upwards as she heard him utter a grim, hissing rattle. His mouth quivered but only frothy spittle dripped from his lips.

Chloe slapped open her own safety buckle and leant over to him, reaching out her arm.
"Give me your hand, John!" she yelled as she scrambled over her seat towards him.

There was no reaction. Fear spread out in his eyes like black smoke, then clouded over.
"John!" She cried. She didn't want to move him. She smoothed his cheek with her open hand and felt for a pulse in his neck. She shivered as her palm felt the grotesque bony protrusion on his neck. She did her best not to recoil her hand and simply retracted it slowly and shakily.

That is when Jack opened the door.

Chloe jumped in her seat, yelled and flipped around like a cat, all in one movement. She had instinctively recoiled her legs and Jack thought he was just about to be kicked flying back to the ground.

She wasn't quite sure what to make of the apparition hanging from the helicopter. Jack's sweaty face was smeared with black camo paint, his black combat jacket and helmet were all but invisible against the dark background beyond. The huge protruding night vision goggles resting on his forehead made him look more giant insect than human. It was the whites of his eyes her attention was drawn to. They were wide open but upturned and deep set, with a smooth velvet green iris that she found welcome relief.

"Whaaa. I'm friendly!" He hollered back raising his hand in defence. He had a familiar voice, one that almost put her off guard.

He could register the distraught in her eyes.
He looked past Chloe to see the pilot and closed his eyes.

"Where the … ?" her head wanted to turn back to the remains of the Lynx. "How the...?" Her audible voice trailed off as she stared in disbelief.

"I'm a ghost!" He said flatly.

Jack's mind was filtering. Black smoke was gradually filling the cabin, flames were burning near explosive ordinance and at any moment he was expecting fire from an unknown number of hostile units.

"It's time to leave! Now!" He said promptly.

She was thinking the same but for different reasons. She wanted to get out of the cabin and get away from death. She reached behind her, hoping to grab her pack and SA80 rifle but the rear of the cabin was burning along with their kit. She punched the seat and leapt down from the cabin, refusing to grab the hand Jack offered to help her. They both ran, side by side, still crouching into the dark towards the base of the canyon wall, the only point of cover available.

They squatted low against the rock staring at the smouldering wrecks and friends they had left behind, catching their breath, as it poured out of their mouths into the cold dry air.

"Just you?" She said coolly.

Jack half turned towards her and nodded slowly with a look of scepticism.
"Nice!" He replied. He was used to plain talk but not quite so direct, so soon.

"They are in the caves up there." She motioned with her head looking directly at him.

Her auburn hair was tied into a short ponytail that didn't quite reach her neck. Her taut pale skin seemed to have an aurora in the night and she had pale blue eyes with a fiery-orange centre around the pupils that gave nothing away. She had thin tight lips, a long slender neck and slight shoulders that fit neatly into her desert camouflage uniform.

She was aware he was looking at her but she stared back, unblinking.

 "I don't know how many." She continued.

Jack glanced at his rifle and then at hers, assessing the ammo they had between them.

"If we had radio, everything would be different" he muttered. He looked at her small figure but imagined she was less delicate than at first glance. Her arms folded, rubbing her arms to keep the cold at bay.

"We can't stay here." He said.

He looked at his black regimental watch and then up at the stars. He already had a plan in mind for this outcome. That is what Special Forces training was all about. A plan for all eventualities, especially the shockingly, nasty, unlikely ones.

"Can you hike thirty miles?" He underestimated the distance he was expecting to travel to give her a sense of hope and encouragement.

"It's more like forty five to the nearest FOB (Forward Operations Base) in Helmand province." she said sarcastically.

He couldn't help laugh inside. She was a lot smarter than he had anticipated.
"Yes." He smirked. "Yes it is."

"Of course I can make it! I'm a soldier in case you hadn't noticed!" she said angrily.

She did a good job of plucking the question from his head. She was enjoying this game. She liked to make it clear that she didn't need patronising. He was charming enough but they always were.

She also had her own way of doing things. She was recalling the digital maps in her head. She had a gift when it came to spacial awareness and knew exactly where they were before they got shot down. She pictured the canyon and the angle it was facing when she was airborne and the bearing to the FOB.

"That way right?" She pointed with her open hand into the canyon wall.
She was indicating the precise North westerly bearing, where FOB Gibraltar stood some forty five miles away.

"Near enough!" He said curtly.

He rose to his feet and nodded for her to join him. She came to his side and they headed off into the night. They hiked twenty miles in the freezing darkness until they came upon a small outcrop of ridges rising high above the canyon floor above them. They made a daring ascent to a shadowy recess in the ridge line, that Jack had ambitions for.

Jack's hands and shoulders were shivering as he peeked inside. He daren't use a flash light and used his night vision goggles to check the inside for any unwelcome surprises. He spied a suitable place to collapse tucked away to the right of the entrance.

Going through the cave entrance was like entering a distant and ancient home far removed from the real hardship of the desert. It was still cold and dry and even though the cave ceiling arched high above them and the walls disappeared into the darkness, it afforded a welcome feeling of security.

"Over here." He called quietly. His voice was calm and barely echoed, as if wrapped in cardboard. "I think we found ourselves an ice house!"

Chloe clung to the cave walls. She shuffled and edged her way in, barely able to hold her body up because of the aches from her seizing muscles. When she felt the soft sand on the underside of her boots she practically fell to the ground in a heap, slowly curling herself into a ball. Even the sand was cold.

Jack took a moment to look from the cave entrance. His desert GTX boots creaked as he crouched to the ground. He was suddenly aware of the silence. There were no animals, machinery or wind. The sky was as clear as glass and the air was locked rigid.

When he was satisfied they were safe, he padded back to Chloe, placed his rifle to his right, threw down his helmet and goggles and sidled up behind her to keep warm. She didn't stir. She was probably already asleep. He could feel her cold skin and hoped his warmth would radiate through her. He could feel his heart beat more calmly in his chest and his breathing was slowing.

He was thinking they would sleep the whole day tomorrow and hopefully march the last twenty five miles at night to Helmand River and make it to the FOB without further incident. He tried to put it out of his head.

She began to shiver and then she woke suddenly. She didn't flinch when she realised he was spooned around her. Instead she seemed to relax for the first time. Her legs extended in a stretch and then recoiled gradually.
 
"I'm fucking freezing," her voice almost tearful.
Was this the first time she showed her vulnerability he mulled.

He placed his hand around her shoulder and wiggled closer to her.
"You're like an ice block!" He said honestly.

"At least I won't show up on infrared." She laughed.

He couldn't help himself chuckling out loud especially in their ridiculous situation.

"I thought this position was supposed to keep us both warm!" She continued.

"Yeah but you need some serious defrosting first!" He heard his words hang in the air, repeating on him.

"What are you saying?" She said eventually, speaking into the cave.

"Nothing!" He blurted. "Just that you're fucking cold!"

"Good… For a minute I thought you were being rude!"

Then she laughed almost hysterically her body vibrating to her core. When she finally stopped her body was unusually still.

"I feel terrible. If only..." Her voice hovered like her thoughts.

"What?"

"If only I had..." she had to force the words from her throat. "If only I had... spotted them."

"Don't," he responded quickly to interrupt her thoughts. "Don't blame yourself. Everyone had a chance to make a visual. They were dug in! Practically invisible. You were the first to respond!"

There was silence. He wanted to say more but he was sure he'd got his message across.

She sighed quietly and then nothing for a few more minutes.

They were both acutely aware of each other.

"I can't sleep." She moaned.
"Ummm. Nor can I!" He said flatly. "Someone keeps talking!"

She giggled like a young girl and then there was silence again. The cold crept across the cave and descended like sharpened spears.
Then he definitely felt her press her back against him and lift her head slightly. Even in the dark he could make out the slender lines of her pale neck against her darker combat top.

He made nothing of it but he was feuding inside. His angst for the loss of his friends churned around in his thoughts. He knew she wasn't to blame but somehow she was the focus of his frustration. He took a big intake of breath and exhaled slowly, trying to expel the rising knot of tension in his body.


- Continued –

Chloe's mind was spinning too. She heard Jake breathing, it was heavy and laboured. She felt some debt to him for keeping her focused on escaping safely. He was straightforward and clear thinking and she liked that. It helped put her own mind in order.

She was replaying the moment when she saw the first RPG. She couldn't stop cursing herself, if only she had paid closer attention to the canyon. Surely she would have been able to spot the insurgents and prevent so much loss. She twisted her body in anguish hoping for some relief.
When Chloe twisted her head back against his shoulder, he felt the loose threads of hair against his cheeks. Her scent wafted over him. It was pure, sweet and inviting like the nectar of a single flower in an oasis. He lent forward and placed his cheek against it.

As his stubble rubbed her skin she tipped her head away to expose more of her neck, murmuring gently.
Jack felt Chloe respond to his touch. She began to stretch out her legs and arch her back as if he were controlling her with his thoughts. His thoughts were dark. He wanted revenge against his unseen enemy. If his thoughts were clear he could never hurt her but right now his vision was clouded and confused.
His body was guided by her movements, he lightly clawed her neck with his fingers. Her hair slipped over her shoulders, and down her back. He kissed her neck and her supple skin melted against his lips. He could feel her muscles and sinew below the skin and closed his mouth around them playfully. The warmth of the blood running through her veins was intoxicating.

He reached around her throat and gripped her chin, turning her face towards his and ran his lips over hers, feeling her contours in the blackness.
They said nothing.
She opened her mouth and let him probe inside with his tongue which changed him. He wanted her completely.

He pulled her onto her back by her shoulders and straddled her fully clothed. He forced her head against the sand with his palm against her neck. He lent down, pressed his mouth hard against hers, biting her tongue playfully as she slipped it into his mouth. Their moist tongues twisted and explored together making quiet promises to each other.
He lightly gripped her lower lip with his mouth, pulling his head away and letting her lips rake slowly through his teeth and then immediately plunged back to her mouth for more. He ran his hand between the buttons of her jacket and groped at her ample bust, smoothing it under his palm and scraping the underside of her breasts through her thermal garments. He could feel her nipples peak and glided them between his fingers.

He edged his kisses across her cheek, reaching her ear where again he gripped and pulled at her lobe breathing heavily and noisily.
He followed the alluring path down the delicate line of her neck kissing and nibbling the edges of her taught tendons as she revealed her neck for him. His mind was racing like a predator as he sucked at her flesh and into his mouth. He could smell his spit infusing with her delicate feminine fragrance, degrading it back to the basic odour of bases and pheromones.

The freezing cave was not enough to prevent a wave of heat spread across Jack's back.  He rapidly unfastened his jacket top. Chloe did the same, leaning forward to discard it to her side and then allowing jack to yank off both of her under layers over her shoulders and head. No sooner had they hit the floor, she was unclasping her bra and casting it aside.
He ran his fingernails down the length of her naked body and tucked them under her combat trousers, prying them open to reveal her black thong. He placed his hand between her silky legs and traced it smoothly over the soft fabric covering her mound. He could tell from the touch on his fingertips she was clean shaven and he groaned with anticipation.

He loosened her combat belt, seized it along with her pants at the hip, and jerked them down over her buttocks and to her ankles and leather boots. He was right about her being hairless, her thighs and mons Venus were almost effervescent white in the dim light.
He looked at the myriad of laces holding her boots and trousers firmly in place. Chloe giggled at his frustration but before he could grapple at them she raised her legs high over her waist and neatly slipped her slacks off over her heels, leaving her naked, save her heavy oversized boots.
His mind leapt, as she lay open before him. He could barely see her outline yet the scent of her sex coiled around him like the beguiling smoke from an opium pipe.

He pushed her thighs apart and dived with open mouth right between her legs. Her sticky vulva clung to his cheeks as he rubbed his face and lips against her moist opening. He savoured her delightful ridges and contours in the dark, feeling his way blind with the edge of his sensitive lips and tongue. She was gaping open and he flicked across her recesses, lapping her flowing juices over his lips and around her entrance, edging his long tongue up her crevasse to her delicately poised clitoris that hung like a bell clapper under her hood and pealed out her sweet rhythmic moan as she quivered upon his firmly striking touch.

His fingers roamed over her breasts as he run his tongue up and down her depths, feeling her inner labia yield and slip away as he played her slowly. When her lips fanned out, he sucked her back into his mouth holding her neatly between his lips and teeth like a cat playing with its prey, only to restart and splay her open again and again, working his spit into her until she was like a soft pot of jelly.
He drank her in until he felt the pain of his cock raging against the confines of his trousers. He leaned back to tear open his trousers, but before he could slip them down, Chloe was low on her knees in front of him pulling him free and ferociously tugging his trousers to the ground.

She impaled her throat over his cock, clamping her lips hard against the middle of his rigid member. She could feel the ridge of his helmet against the back of her tongue and forced her head slowly down harder onto him. Her spittle rose up from the back of her throat and she began to spread it along his length as she bobbed her head up and down without losing any suction on him.

Her hands clung to his hips as she used the strength in her back and weight of her head to pound him against the base of her tongue and throat. Her ponytail swished repeatedly against his tummy as she continued without signs of tiring. Her mouth smacked hollow as she finally pulled free, her thick saliva oozing down the underside of his proud prick. She placed her lips tightly around its head and twirled her tongue along his frenulum, and dabbed her tongue in his meatus hole, teasing out his pre cum and slurping the gooey strands into her mouth and greedily swallowing it as she threw her head back in excitement.

She sat upright on her knees and lifted one leg and slid his cock along the full length of her cunt, sliming it with herself and then bending back down, feeding on her own juice. She smacked her lips, teasing him with her hunger.
Jack was aching so hard at her foreplay that he slapped her playfully across her cheek but she simply moaned with pleasure, turning her head immediately back for more.
Jack was already near breaking point.  He forced her prone, pushing her back with his open hand against her neck. He slid his own trousers off over his boots and felt her open thighs lightly brush against his hips as he arched forward onto his arms over her.

He pushed his cock down and felt it align in the base of her slit.
His weight pivoted forward and he felt her stretch exquisitely, engulfing him as he glided into her channel.
His skin slid back as he drove deeper inside her tightly snug vagina. He continued to push himself further in one slow motion until he could feel the clutching end of her cunt and her inner labia resisting against the wide base of his cock.

They both shuddered as they fully engaged, taking a moment to register their overloading senses. He squirmed and began to thrust his weight against her body as she locked her heavy boots around his calves.
He slid his left hand under her buttocks and she lifted herself upwards so her could feel their perfect form and brush them free from sand. He slapped them hard a number of times and them squeezed them upwards with his powerful arms. She was pinned against him with such force that his hand slipped into the crack of her behind.

He could feel her anus at his finger tips and smeared his fingers against it, pressing her sphincter so that it yielded to one finger and then another. The length of his finger gradually disappeared inside her as they knocked together in a perfect synchronous rhythm. He could feel the underside of his cock with his fingers within her and she cried out with animal passion as he stroked her inner membranes and continued to gather pace.
At the same time his chest bounced against hers, their pointing nipples colliding together. Then she started to whine, a low moan that rose in pitch with each thrust and penetration. Her crimes were dissolving as she served her penitence beneath him. Then his rising tide of excitement began to break and he felt the uncontrollable surge of cum within him.

He convulsed as he felt it spurt and gush inside her and before he could gain control, another wave broke and then another each releasing more, cramming her insides with his fluid.
Her high pitched whines suddenly became gulps of air as she clamped him hard and shook with her own orgasm.
She relaxed a moment and sounded panicked.

"Oh oh ooooh!" Her voice wavered like her muscles and before he knew what was happening she squirted against his pubes, a hot stream splashing against him and running down over his balls.

Then she quivered and collapsed to the sand. She was spent and purred.
"Oh fuck!" He uttered.

He let his head droop and rested his glistening forehead and cheek against hers, panting from the exhilaration.

"Oh I needed that!" She responded. "Mmmmm"

His breathing slowed and his heart calmed. She could feel him relaxing inside her.

She looked up at him with dreary eyes and twitched her inner muscles on him, making him hard with each pulse. His smiling face lowered against hers as he kissed and played games with her lips until he had no energy remaining. Their high trickled away and the cold slowly permeated their senses. They fumbled in the dark to find their clothes and wrestled them back on in their dreamy state and wrapped themselves around each other and tried to sleep.
Throughout the night, Jack and Chloe clung together like limpets on a sea battered rock. They had both barely slept! They had shivered the whole night through with the effort to keep out the invading bitter chill. But as the first rays of sunlight broke into the back of the cavern it brought with it fizzing warmth that diffused slowly across the trapped dry air. Their fierce embrace became more forgiving and allowed them to finally recoup their fatigue.

Jack occasionally peeked through his narrow eyes at his rifle propped against the wall but as the light dispersed his attention was drawn to the innocent beauty, entwined around him and asleep. He had not gazed upon her so closely before. Her features were elf like, with tight drawn lips, high cheek bones and slender nose. Her red ponytail curled under her chin and radiated a new lustre under the desert dawn light. The weight of her head rested on his arm and he remained motionless, letting her dream away and delay the realisation of their harsh predicament.

A few hours passed and they both woke with a start. As her eyes grew accustomed to the bright light she looked jack in the face.

"Oh my, your camouflage is a little different," she giggled

She smoothed around his mouth and he realised that half of his greasy camo paint was missing from his face and was probably spread between her legs.

"Oh. Haha." He touched his chin and saw nothing come off on his hand.

His lower face revealed his clean skin and his upper part still blacked out. He resembled a poor comical hero like batman wearing a cheap mask.

She embraced him and gave him a morning kiss as if they were used to sleeping in the same bed every day. Jack blinked and tried to recollect if the whole night had been a weird dream.
 
"So, are we waiting till dark again before we move on?" She asked.

"Probably best!" He answered.

He took the remaining ration bars from his jacket pocket and handed one to her.
"Breakfast darling?" He said smiling.

"Oh yum. Yes please." She mocked, grabbing the plastic wrapper out of his hand and tearing it open quickly. She demolished it rapidly and then touched his thigh.

"I'm still hungry," she said smirking.

Jack looked at her beautiful alluring smile. He now felt so easy in her company. She had a magnetism he had never seen before. He felt he could trust her.

"Well, we do have some time to kill." He said beaming across his wide set jaw.
 
"Oh, my hero. Please!" She squealed acting out a damsel in distress crawling away.

"Right that's it!" He said grabbing her from behind.

His hands went straight to her hips and he tugged down her trousers revealing her naked bum.
 
"Oh Batman. What's got over you!" She tried saying seriously but failing and burst into laughter.

Jack was enjoying his new role as hero gone bad and slapped her with his open hand across her buttocks so hard it echoed in the cavern and left a bright red hand print on her rear.

"Owww." She yelled.

Jack was on his knees behind her and slipped down his trousers and pants and his member bobbed free. She lower herself and Jack spat on her ass and slipped his deposit into her tight asshole with his finger. Then he aligned carefully and pushed himself in as she pushed back against him.

"Ummmm" she moaned.

He pulled her thighs back and forced every inch of himself into her depths letting her groan as she stretched around his girth. Then he started shoving her, bouncing against her shapely curves. Her ass was soft and cold against his groin. He took hold of her pony tail and pulled her hair in time with his thrusts watching the outline of her breasts jostle forward and back.
Their pace was slow at first but once they had settled into a rhythm, they struck against each other faster. Her pussy slapped against his balls as he sodomised her completely.
He arched his back and was coming close to climax.
 
She twisted her head and looked in his eyes, biting her lower lip and enjoying the twisted expressions on his face. Then, without warning, she slipped forward, spun around and gripped his cock in one hand, and grabbed his bum in the other and sucked his cock deep into her throat, pushing him firmly into her mouth with her hand on his buttock.
He had already gone past the point of no return and was still thrusting his hips forward and back, trying to get off, but it was now against her face and willing mouth. He gripped a bunch of her hair and held her close to his body. She hummed from the back of her mouth and the small vibrations played right down to his balls and then he felt himself go with a guttural groan.

His cum pumped into her mouth and she let it fill her, bubbling over the back of her tongue while holding her breath, wanting it all. He continued to ooze from his tip and she could feel it was about to overflow from the corners of her mouth but she held her lips fast against his cock waiting a full minute for him to empty. When he finally dropped his head she moved her hand from his dick to his balls and pressed them upwards against her lips, forcing any remaining semen into her already bulging cheeks.
He felt her tongue roam along his tip and then, with her lips still tight around him, she slipped him out, tilted her head back and showed him his cum in her open mouth before taking several gulps to swallow it all.

"Ahhh. You taste good batman! Superhero sperm is so hot!" she said in a watery voice.

He looked down at her young innocent face and rubbed his cock against both of her cheeks and along her lips and then stopped abruptly. He turned his head towards the exit.
He could hear a distant rumbling noise.
 
"Oh shit. He lent forward and kissed Chloe quickly on the lips and pulled his combat trousers back on.

It soon became apparent that the noise was the rumble of tyres, coming ever closer.

Jack grabbed his rifle and tucked in behind the cavern wall, prying through his rifle scope. Moments later he spotted a brown Land Rover approaching on dusty tracks. He kept it in his sights and saw the faces of two British soldiers and a small British flag flapping from the rear antenna.

"Ah, we have friendlies in the area!" He cried out.

He watched the Land Rover park and two officers disembarked. The driver took out a pair of binoculars and scanned the rocks in his direction.

Jack stepped out of the cave into clear view and waved his arms. The officer waved back and stuck his thumb into the air.

"Looks like our taxi has arrived!" He said nonchalantly.

Jack and Chloe's faces were a mix of relief and disappointment.

Chloe rapidly put her clothes back on and Jack grabbed his goggles and rifle. They edged their way back out of the cave and descended to the officers awaiting them.

"Sorry it took us so long to find you! We only just got Intel on your movements from our satellite and traced your movements here. We came as quick as we could." His voice was trim and clipped.

They looked at the cheery officers face and mustered a quick thank you. Jack shook his hand and the officer looked a little confused. He could smell something unpleasant and grimaced.

"Well, don't all thank us at once." The officer said properly. He escorted them back to the rover and they settled into the back seat for the return ride. Chloe and Jack exchanged smirks not knowing how to deal with their new found company.

"We'll be back in less than an hour." He continued stiffly.

The officer grabbed some chewing gum from the dashboard. "Want a mint?"

Chloe looked at Jack and smiled. "No that's ok thanks." She said straight-faced.

The officer looked a little puzzled as he threw them back on the dash. "Ah no problem. You can get cleaned up when you get back. Just relax now. We have you secure!"

"Thanks, to be honest, I can't wait to jump in the showers!" Chloe said and gave Jacks right thigh a little squeeze out of the officer’s sight.

They bumped over the dusty trail back to FOB Gibraltar safely and right back to Chloe's camp. She jumped down from the vehicle with her confidence back in her stride.

"Well, see you soon Jack. Thanks for taking care of me!" She called touching her lips.

Jack noticed her army ID on her lapel.

"I'll find you sooner than you think. I've got your number!" He called back waving goodbye.
 
The officer shook his head and pressed his foot on the gas and the tyres spun briefly before they disappeared.


The End.

MID FEBRUARY 1945

Captain Mike Adams awoke in a cold sweat, it was early dawn. He sat upright and took a deep breath as his heart raced. Sleep never came easy and when it did it was filled with night terrors. Squinting in the low light at his watch, it was 4:45 in the morning. Adams rose from his cot and dressed, stepping out from his tent. The sky was pink and a warm breeze cooled his sweat soaked scalp. Taking his time, enjoying the dawn, he made his way to the company HQ tent.

“Morning Captain,” A sentry said as he walked by.
Adams gave the soldier a breezy salute.

Adams mused silently to himself, “Captain! That will take getting used to.”
He entered the tent and sat at his desk.

Adams had been given the commission out of necessity. Adams’s Company was part of the Marines 1st Division. He had been a lieutenant, in command of a platoon during the invasion of Peleiu that prior September.
The Brass had predicted the island would be taken in 4 or 5 days. They were wrong.

Because of Japan's well-crafted fortifications and stiff resistance, the battle lasted more than two months. The price of victory had been high. The 1st division was badly mauled and had suffered 70% causalities and the survivors would never ever be the same again. 
The division had been taken off the front line and had returned to Hawaii to rest and be rebuilt.

His company was now back to full strength, a mix of old salts and new recruits. Adams trained and drilled the men without mercy. They had Japan on the ropes but the war in the pacific was far from over.

The night before Adams had taken in a movie with his men. Before the movie started, they had watched a news reel. The men cheered and whistled at the news that the allies were poised to cross the Rhine and the war in Europe was reaching its conclusion.

Then the news reel showed films of the invasion of Iwo Jima and the men grew silent. It was a grim reminder that their job was not done.

A staff officer had told Adams that the fighting on Iwo Jima was fierce and progress was being measured in yards, and once again Marines were dying at alarming rates.

Pearl Harbor in Hawaii had recovered from that devastating air strike by the Japanese and was full of transport ships. The scuttlebutt was that the 1st division would be shipping out soon to fight again, but where?

Mike could read a map and had a good hunch where they would be heading, but being just a Company commander and for security reasons would only learn their destination once the task force was out at sea.
 
Martha Simmons sipped her drink, then looked at her watch and let out a sigh. A Naval Nurse, she now held the rank of lieutenant. Before the war she was a nurse in San Francisco and a newlywed. Then in 1940, a car accident took the life of her husband. She grieved for months, then carried on her life working. Once more trying to get her life back on track.

December 7th 1941 changed everything. After that attack on Pearl Harbor, she answered her country’s call and joined the Navy. Now just over 3 years later, her job was training Naval corpsmen, medics who went into battle with Marines. She took her duty very seriously. These young men she trained and the techniques she taught them could mean life or death to a wounded soldier.

Martha smiled to herself recalling how she had met her now very late date, Captain Mike Adams. Part of the medics training was classroom and the medics from his company would show up limping from sprains, bruises and were battered or exhausted.

Seeking out the infamous captain, she tried to give him a piece of her mind. His callous uncaring demeanor and sarcastic remarks enraged her and she took her complaint to her superior who sat her down and told her what had occurred at Peleiu.

Her Superior was a surgeon who had been there. He told her of the carnage, the oppressive heat and the lack of fresh water. He told her about the repeated attacks to take the ridge that had led to appalling casualties and many dead marines in the span of 10 days. Reaching for a file he read Martha the final butcher’s bill for taking the Island. 1300 killed, 5450 wounded and 36 missing in action.

She left the meeting stunned and let the matter go. Then a few days later at the restaurant she was now at, he had approached her and apologized for his behavior and bought her a drink. One drink led to another and she began to see his human side. Mike was funny with a wry sense of humor and very handsome. Though only 30 years old, his dark hair showed streaks of grey at the temples and his eyes were of a man who had seen death face to face.

Martha smiled as she saw Mike enter the restaurant and pause at the bar to greet some fellow officers before making his way to her table. Giving her a peck on the cheek he sat down.

“Hey Marty, sorry I am late, but duty called,” Mike smiled.

“Semper Fi,” Martha said rolling her eyes affectionately. It was the short version used by US Marines of “Semper fidelis,” the Marine’s Latin motto meaning “"always faithful" or "always loyal.”

“Semper Fi,” Mike echoed smiled in toast and took a swig of the beer Martha had ordered him when she arrived.

Over dinner they engaged in small talk about their duties and current events. Martha reminded him about the big USO dance that Saturday night. Martha loved dancing and was looking forward to it.

The USO, United Service Organization was set up in 1941 and provided military personal free entertainment and recreation.

“You better not stand me up Captain Adams,” Martha warned him.

Mike took her hand and said quietly, “Might be the last dance for a while. We got orders.”

“Oh no Mike,” Martha said in almost a whisper holding his hand tight.

Martha knew better than to ask details, and Mike would never tell her. He might not even be privy to the 1st Marines’ destination. She had feared this news and had hoped this horrible war would be over before it happened.

The couple finished dinner then took in a movie but Martha could not concentrate on the film. Her mind was going every which way. She had been dating Mike for about 6 weeks and their relationship was moving to the next phase. Was it love? She was not sure but she cared for Mike dearly and treasured their time together.

When Mike dropped her off at her apartment, they kissed goodnight and she ran up the steps. Relieved her roommate was asleep, she flopped on her bed and cried, muffling her sobs with her pillow. She didn’t want to lose another man she cared so deeply about. She eventually fell into an exhausted sleep.

SATURDAY NIGHT

The dance was being held in an enormous Air hanger on the base. The couple had agreed to meet at the dance and when Martha showed up with some of her girlfriends the party was in full swing. Officers and enlisted men from all branches of the military mingled 3 deep at the long bar and buffet.

The men looked smart dressed in their uniforms and the girls had all made the effort to pretty themselves up.
   
Martha was no exception. She was lucky enough to have managed to get her hands on a pair of fine tan nylon stockings. They were difficult to find, what with most nylon manufacturing going towards the war effort and making parachutes and uniforms and such like.

She wore the tan stockings with a floral blue and pink dress. It was sleeveless with a shallow vee neck front and back. It hugged her body to her waist and then the skirt part flared out. Its length reached mid-calf and showed off her curvy figure to perfection. She wore black lace up shoes with a one inch heal which matched her handbag.

Captain Adams spotted her immediately even among the crowd. She was to him the prettiest girl at the dance. He ordered himself a beer, a rum & coke for Martha and waded through the crowd to her.
She saw him too and admired him. He looked handsome in his uniform. They found a table and chatted awhile before Mike asked her to dance. They both douted their “Lucky Strike” cigarettes and moved to the dance floor.
   
The large band began playing the Glenn Miller hit “In the mood.” The dance floor quickly flooded with couples all doing variations of the Lindy hop, a popular dance at the time. Loose dancing circles began to form and couples took their turns in the middle to show off their unique dance moves. When it was Martha and Mike’s turn some of his men were stunned to see their “no nonsense” Captain was such a good dancer! Martha’s moves were even better!

“Check out Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers!”  A Gunnery Sergeant from Mike’s Company yelled out over the music.

The song ended and after a brief pause, the band broke into another hit song, “The Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company B.” 
The place went wild with couples dancing in complete abandon. After a few more dances and quite breathless, Mike led Martha off the dance floor to the bar for fresh drinks and then back to their table.
A panting Mike tugged at his collar and suggested the couple step out for some fresh air. A breathless Martha nodded in agreement.

The couple walked out of the hanger and walked along the tarmac hand in hand till they came upon a bench looking out over the ocean. It was another warm and pleasant night in Hawaii. Mike placed his arm around Martha and the couple were silent, enjoying the breeze and just being together.

After a while, Mike turned to Martha and spoke. “A penny for your thoughts Lieutenant Simmons?” Mike asked.

“I am in love with a Marine.” Martha blurted out. She was, she was sure of it. Why else would she be so upset he was about to leave her and worst… might never come back. She kept those latter thoughts to herself.
 
“Well,” Mike took a deep breath, “I am in love with a navy nurse.” Mike confessed. He had been for some time.

The couple stared at each other both not quite believing their revelations. Then they began to kiss passionately holding each other close.
After a long kiss, Mike suddenly got on one knee in front of Martha and handed her a small jeweller’s case.

“Martha will you marry me?” Mike asked quietly.
“Yes. Mike Yes. Do we have time?” Martha said her voice almost breaking up with emotion.

Mike shook his head, “No. No time. I am leaving soon Marty. Will you wait for me?”

“You know I will Mike, but let’s not wait for our Wedding Night. I want mine tonight. I want you Michael Adams. Let’s go to my place.”  Martha whispered.

“What about your roommate?” Mike asked, a bit taken back on what they were talking about.

“She is working the night shift at the hospital all week. We will have the place to ourselves till 8am.” Martha replied.

Mike smiled. No way was he turning down such an offer from such an incredible and beautiful woman. He took hold of her hand.

“Let’s go,” he decided. The couple almost ran to Mike’s Jeep and then drove on to Martha’s Apartment. 
He parked outside and they ran up the steps. Mike had to give a helping hand with the key to open the door for Martha began to tremble, unable to slot the key in the lock.

“I haven’t … not since my husband…” she stumbled over her words trying to tell Mike that this was not her normal behaviour. She was not a loose woman. She did not sleep with just any man who came along.

“Shshshhh,” Mike reassured her. “I know already.” He helped her line the key up.
Martha felt a rush of love for this man. The door opened. She shut it after them and led him to the living room.

“Now where were we?” Mike asked rhetorically, pulling her into his arms and they kissed each other passionately in the middle of the room.

Martha slid her hands up his arms to settle on his shoulders. His skin was warm and the muscles in his arms took her breath. She softly caressed his ears and neck before pushing her arms out straight so her biceps rested gently by Mike’s ears. The effect was sensual as she kissed his neck and in effect allowed him full access to her breasts brushing softly against his chest if he wanted.

Mike let her kiss him but then in a split second, he crushed her body to his. His arms slid around her back and behind her head to angle it better for a deep and passionate kiss. His tongue quickly claimed hers as they touched.  He found her zip on her dress and he lowered it slow but with purpose. The dress held loose on her body.

Martha felt her sex flood with heat and it began pulsing with sexual desire. She felt his cock harden against her stomach through his trousers.

They pressed into each other, their bodies heated and the air was tinged with a desperation not just of their need but also of the circumstance. The possibility that death could intervene too early and prevent them making beautiful memories together, to prevent them ever feeling this sexual need for each other ever again, to live their happy ever after.

Neither wanted to live without it, neither wanted to feel that desperate loss. Silent pleas went up to the heavens to keep them both safe.

They clung to each other, grinding, stroking and breathing each other in. Mike’s hard thigh slipped between her legs to tease her. He moved her head around like he owned her but Martha didn't mind. She had never been kissed this passionately or this intensely before.

They both had tonight and they both wanted this memory to last a life time if need be.

They broke the kiss and she nibbled his ears and ran her tongue down his neck. Mike groaned.
“Do that and I won’t be able to control my actions,” Mike warned softly.

“That’s the point,” Martha murmured in his ear, tonging it gently, “I don’t want you in control. I want your hot, raw, marine lust.”

She was being naughty and Mike loved every second of it.
He growled like only a good Marine could, “Semper Fi baby” he grunted and added a warning, “Be careful.”

Martha chuckled paying no heed and replied, “Carpe Diem.”

She stepped out of her dress and lowered to her knees, upright in front of him.
She undid his trousers, felt inside for him and began fellatio on his pulsing erection.

Mike smiled, moaned at her first touch and shut his eyes – “Seize the day”. He liked Martha’s answer a lot.
He liked that tongue of hers.
It was sharp, witty and she knew how to use it well!

Martha slowly leaned forward so her head was just an inch or two in front of Mike’s erection. She slowly bathed the tip of his cock in hot breath. His cock bounced slightly and his breathing became more rapid. She was rewarded with a few drops of precum slowly seeping from the little slit in his helmet. Martha ran her tongue along her lips sexily, then leaned forward and flicked her tongue out and slowly wiped the tip. She was greeted by an audible gasp at the first touch of him and then the sweet salty taste of his precum hitting her taste buds.

Completely entranced at this point, Martha extended her tongue and began to circle his bulbous crown. Mike throbbed and clenching his jaw. She slowly slithered her tongue down the underside of the shaft and worked her way back up to the head. After doing this a few times, she allowed herself to pause at the sensitive underside of the head. She flattened her tongue and slowly bathed the underside of his rock-hard knob. After a moment she slid her tongue back down to the base of his shaft and on to his hairy ball sack. Mike groaned when Martha took each of his large balls into her mouth and massaged her tongue around them.

She listened to his moans of pleasure and knew she wanted to feel his cock in her mouth. She slid her lips up the veiny length of his shaft and found his cock tip had leaked more precum. She licked around his helmet one more time, lapping up the delicious taste of him and exploring his ridges. Then slowly, Martha slid his big knob between her lips and into her mouth. She drooled onto his cock and slowly began to slide his shaft in and out of her mouth. She licked furiously as she moved back and forth, gradually taking more and more of him into her mouth.

At this point, Mike became more vocal moaning, "Mmm, oh baby."  "That's right, just there!"
He was overwhelmed by the stimulation Martha was providing him. He instinctively moved his hips in time with her.

Martha continued to move his big cock in and out of her mouth, occasionally stopping to lick around the head and lap up the increasing amount of precum. Mike moaned when her hands began to join her mouth on his body. Her hands felt his buttocks and then slid down to massage his aching balls while she still bobbed up and down on his pulsing cock.

"Oh God. You don't know how good this feels." He groaned.

Martha took this as her queue and slid her lips all the way down the length of his cock until the tip was prodding the back of her mouth. She repeated again, up and down, then slowly worked the head into her throat.

Mike half-moaned, half-gasped in delighted surprise. Martha had of course had experience of this with her husband who had taught her well and she drew on that knowledge to stimulate and excite Mike.

She started working his entire cock in and out of my throat, which stimulated more and more saliva. Mike moaned more audibly and louder. She pulled off his cock and tasted more and more precum which pumped out of him. She knew he was building up closer and closer to orgasm. She wanted to work him up to a frenzy and an overwhelming release.

She bobbed on him some more and then slowly took the entire length of his cock down her throat. Instead of pulling off, she held it in her throat and licked his scrotum. A trick taught to her by her husband. She had to hold her breath while she did it but the result was worth it. This made Mike’s breathing become even more rapid and his moans even louder. He had never had that done before!

Overcome with lust, Mike put his hand on the back of her head and started pushing her head up and down as he thrust his hips to pump his cock in to her head.

Martha was in heaven moaning on his cock, loving the reaction she had caused. He fucked his pulsing rod in and out of her mouth with increasing intensity. His groans turned into lusty growls. His cock oozed precum and his breathing was heavy and vital.

Suddenly, Mike froze with his cock pulsating in her mouth, fighting for control of his lust, and he let out a loud guttural roar.
“Bedroom now.”  He growled and with that he picked Martha up like a babe in arms, “Where?” he demanded to know.

She pointed and he kicked the bedroom door open.
He stripped off his clothes in a rush and pulled Martha’s underwear off unceremoniously. There was only one thing on this Marine’s mind and that was to impale his future wife till she screamed his name in pleasure.


- continued –

Mike placed Martha on her back on the bed. She leaned on her elbows watching him undress with a thrilling purpose. He removed her underwear, expertly and quickly disposed of it on the bedroom floor. He crawled up the bed, spreading her legs open as he did so. They were both naked as he pushed upwards and she slid down a little until they were in a missionary position in the middle of the bed. Her legs were bent slightly at the knees above the mattress and he was between her spread thighs. His hands slid under her upper back and his palms cupped around her shoulders.

She was panting a little, thoroughly excited. It had been a good while since she had had a man on top of her like this. Her eyes stared into his with an expression of excitement and nervous anticipation. Mike looked back and then at her slender neck, full round breasts and rosebud nipples. He groaned and kissed her, grinding gently on top of her. He enjoyed her nude body caressing him.

His hips started to move and his cock prodded and teased her pubic mound. Their eyes locked, lost in the feel of each other.

He probed her vaginal entrance with his cock. She was slick and ready for him. Without warning, he thrust and slid into her very snug, very warm and very slippery sex. They both moaned in delight as he joined with her, still keeping their eyes fixed. He decided not to ram her but to keep the rhythm slow, deliberate and sensuous.

Martha started pushing with her hips and legs and met each probe of his throbbing cock. Her arms moved around his back and she caressed him lovingly. He kept moving his hips and broke eye contact to give her breasts some kisses, then he sucked her taut nipples, rubbing his tongue ravenously on each one.

Martha moaned and her eyes closed. She felt the tempo of his sliding cock increase and she compensated with her own rocking, squirming and thrusting movements. It felt so good, so glorious. It had been so long, so very long. It really was like her first time all over again!

He gave her stretched neck a moist necklace of kisses. He pushed his face into her soft, dark hair.

He kissed her ear and panted, "Martha... I... can't last… much... longer."

"I… don’t want… you to." She panted, her words in sync with the thrusts and her own movements grew more urgent as their genitals mashed together.

Mike's cock picked up speed and force. His hands cupping her shoulders held her tighter. He began to growl like a lusty animal. He thrust harder and they both heard the "thap thap" sounds of his groin meeting hers. A few seconds later, he was pounding his cock as deep and forcefully into her as he could. He was a male in lust mode and his pubis teased her clitoris, driving her wild.

Her hips responded in kind. Martha recognised the signs and knew she was getting close to orgasm.
Her voice was breathy and urgent, "C'mon, baby... I want you so much. I want to make you cum... cum for me..."

Mike shoved in deep again and didn't pull back. He savagely ground his cock inside her and his groin against her pussy. She felt perfect around him, tight, wet and warm. Just perfect. His body clenched tight.

Martha knew Mike was close to climax. She flexed her legs, pushed her pussy to grind her clitoris on Mike’s pubic bone. She wanted to tip over that exciting precipice with him.

She yelled when he roared and flung herself off the cliff to free fall with Mike into sexual bliss.

Waves of tingling pleasure coursed through her. She felt her pussy begin quick convulsions around his hardness.

He felt the build-up and then he pulled out to erupt all over her pubic hair and tummy.

They both moaned their euphoria.

Mike shifted and bought his torso down to Martha’s. He rose on his elbows and smiled into her eyes. His forearms slid under her shoulders so his palms could cup the sides of her face.

He looked into her eyes for a few moments, then his face lowered. His mouth met hers. His tongue slowly slid between her soft lips and caressed her tongue. Hers started to move too and an oral erotic dance began and grew into a deep loving kiss.

Her arms encircled his neck. His hands slid to the back of her head. She pressed her body towards him and both felt the sticky cum smearing on their bodies. He liked feeling her turgid nipples pressed into his chest.

He was glad he was here with her before he had to ship out.

He flexed his cock on her tummy and felt her skin flutter in the same spot. He felt her tremble under him and smiled. She was experiencing an aftershock.

“I love you Martha,” he told her.
“I love you Mike,” she answered.

They kissed and made love twice more during the night before falling into a sated and contented sleep in each other’s arms.

APRIL 1945

Martha awoke and like she did every morning and every night, she looked at a framed picture on her bed side table. It was a picture of Mike. Martha had taken the photo on a beach date they had a few weeks after they had met.
Mike was sitting on the beach with a beer and waving at the camera. What she liked best about the image was his little sexy smile. It was the only photograph she had of him and she prayed every night that it would not be the last.

Martha showered and dressed and went to the kitchen. Her room mate Donna sat at the table finishing her bowl of oatmeal and listening to the radio. She tried to engage Martha in small talk with little success.

“Oh Marty, I know it’s easy for me to say, but try not to worry. It’s eating you up girl.” Donna said.

“I know, I know. It’s the not knowing, that’s killing me.” Martha sighed.

“Well try and eat something and I will see you at lunch, ok?” Donna said putting her bowl in the sink.

Martha nodded and poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down. Coffee was taken off the rationing list in 1943. A good thing for Martha, she was living on it of late.

Alone in the apartment Martha was lost in thought when the radio got her attention.

“Now the news. The war department has just announced that the largest amphibious assault in the Pacific War has begun!
On April 1st combined forces of Army and Marines landed on the Japanese held Island of Okinawa. The island is only 340 miles from Japan and will give the allies a base for the final push!”

Martha got light headed and almost fainted hearing the news. Her thoughts went to Mike.
“Please keep him safe,” she prayed.
Pulling herself together, she went to work. By the time she got to the hospital, the news had spread fast and everybody was talking about it.

MAY 1945

Martha was a nervous wreck. Only one letter from Mike had arrived and was dated March 12th. It was more a note than a letter. Mike told her he was busy and all was well. He missed her very much and had received a few of her letters.
Every night Martha bought a newspaper and with pure dread poured over the war news. Censorship was tight and most reports were vague at best.  Mike had told her he had put her name on his contact list if the unthinkable happened and she had nightmares about getting the dreaded telegram of his demise.

LATE JUNE 1945

Martha was at the hospital when her room mate Donna ran up to her and told her she had just heard on the radio that the battle was over.  Martha couldn’t believe it. They hugged each other with tears of joy. She prayed Mike was okay and she would hear off him soon.

When Martha arrived home that night, she opened her mail box and there was a rubber banded bundle of 6 letters from Mike!
With excitement and mixed emotion, she went to her bedroom and sat on the bed and arranged them in post mark order. The last 2 envelopes were mud stained and water damaged.

For the next hour she read each letter. In the 1st few letters, Mike sounded upbeat and positive. By the time she got to the last two, Mike mentioned heavy fighting, incessant rain and fanatical resistance by the Japanese enemy. He was tired physically and emotionally of the loss of many of his men and the burden of leadership.

LATE JULY 1945

As Martha was getting ready for work she heard a knock on her door. There was another knock as she approached the door.

“Yes?” Martha asked.

“Telegram for Martha Simmons,” the voice said on the other side of the door.

Martha felt sick. She began to shake. A trembling and white Martha unlocked the door.

“Sign here Ma’am.” The Western union man said without emotion. She wondered how many of these he had had to deliver as she scrawled her name on his pad.
 
Closing the door, tears filled her eyes. She walked into the kitchen. She set the telegram on the table unable to open it and sat down on the stool, rocking herself in her worry.

Donna came out of the bathroom drying her hair with a towel.

“Who was that?” Donna asked.

Unable to speak, Martha just pointed to the table and at the dreaded telegram.

“Oh Marty,” Donna sighed, putting her arms around her friend.

“You read it.” Martha croaked out between deep ragged sobs.

Donna tore open the envelope with dread and read for a moment. Martha watched her face intently trying to gauge her reaction to the content.

Time stood still and seemed so long as Martha waited for Donna to say something. After what seemed to be an eternity, Donna looked at Martha and spoke.

“Well it’s not from the War department!” Donna said with excitement, handing the telegram to Martha to read for herself.

Snatching the telegram from Donna’s hand, Martha read it.

“Marty…stop
In hospital in Saipan…stop
Leg wound…stop
Will recover…stop
Returning to Pearl soon…stop
Miss you…stop
Love Always Mike…stop

As a tidal wave of relief ran through her body, she looked at Donna.

“Wait till I see him, I am going to kill him for scaring me like that!”

Both women laughed at what Martha had just said. They jumped up and down in joy. Mike was alive. Hurt but alive.

SEPTEMBER 20th 1945

VJ Day had been announced to the world on August 15th 1945, then on September 2nd the formal surrender of Japan had taken place in Tokyo.

After Martha had received his telegram, Mike’s letters became more frequent.

Mike wrote that he had been hit in the leg with shrapnel from a mortar round, then taken aboard a hospital ship, then back to the island of Saipan to recover.
   
Martha was now waiting for Mike to return home. At the Pier, Martha chain smoked as the ship finally docked.  Unable to sleep. she had been there since dawn with hundreds of other impatient people.
The base band began to play and the crowd roared as the Marines began to disembark off the ship.

Tears were in her eyes as she saw the men, home from war, meet and hug their loved ones. Emotions and joy were raw and high.

Martha’s heart skipped a beat when she spotted Mike! He was thinner than she remembered and he was limping slightly but still able to carry his sea bag on his shoulder. He looked so handsome and just like a marine should look.

Martha pushed her way to the front and Mike spotted her and smiled.
Dropping his bag, he held out his arms and Martha, crying with joy, ran to him. Her man was alive! Her man was home!

Mike managed a, “Hey Marty,” before she flung her arms around him hugging him tightly and they kissed. It was a kiss of joy, of gladness but most of all of love.

Following the kiss, her face buried in his shoulder, whimpering. No words could express the deep emotion they both felt right there and then.

Mike held her close and caressed her hair and said nothing.

After a while, with emotions more in control, he lifted her chin up with a gentle hand. Mike looked at her face and then in to her beautiful eyes.

“Sorry I’m late darling but duty called,” Mike said, smiling at her.

With a balled fist she hit his shoulder playfully, “Semper Fi,” she answered, rolling her eyes with affection.

His smile broadened, “Semper Fi,” he agreed and dipped his woman for another kiss in the middle of the crowds. 

All around them were joyful cheers, happy music from the base band, flag waving and rolls of celebratory paper strewn about on the floor and still rippling and flying around in the air as people threw them up in jubilation.

The War was over.  Peace was here.


The End.

Fury could see the tail jets of the alien craft just ahead and out of range. He felt a determination to blow his enemy to vapour and hit the booster jets to close in to firing range. As the beep of the target lock chimed that he had him in his sights, he pushed the button to fire the laser cannon and watched. The missile hit his target and the fleeing craft exploded in to a small fireball.
 
Fury bathed in the euphoria of the strike for the moment but knew he had to react quickly. For he had to roll out of the collision course with the exploding craft or face the dire consequences.

As he did so and manoeuvred, he heard the chilling sound of the missile lock on his own craft!
His lips broke into a gentle smile and thought, “So you want to play too huh?”

“Maybe today would be the end.” His thoughts expanded to his own destiny.

He deployed the air defence devices and flicked his manoeuvrable craft into an avoidance pattern. Unknown to his foe targeting him, Fury wanted to die but he would not make it easy for the creatures from another galaxy to terminate his life. No, they would have to work for that honour and he was determined to take as many as he could with him.

They owed him a very big debt, a massive debt in his eyes. They had taken the life of his pregnant wife in their offensive against the ‘people of earth’, now known as Terrans. It was not long after he was deployed as a fighter pilot.

No longer was the world made up of various races and countries. The alien invasion and attacks had made a huge change in the thinking of homo sapiens. They had come together as one against the aliens now, working closely together, breaking down any barriers and prejudices that once were and the war was one species against another.

At first they were getting the worst of the war. Terrans were far outclassed by Alien weaponry and ships. Then the discovery of (or theft of, depending on which species you were a member of) the infinity drive based on the Faster-Than-Light drive found in a crash landed alien craft. This changed the tide and evened things up. It had taken a long 5 years for the greatest minds of earth (Terra) to understand the principles of operation and with that understanding came improvement and now the Terran drive was far superior to the original alien drive. It had turned the tide of the war in the favour of the Terrans.

It was now only a matter of time before the aliens were defeated and driven back to the depths of interstellar space.

He laughed as he thought about all the times he had taunted fate with his missions against the aliens, and now with the war all but won, he was locked in the sights of one of the few remaining reptilian aliens and about to die.

Desperately, he tried every trick 8 years of flying against the aliens had taught him. He used counter measures, trick manoeuvres, throwing his craft around like a leaf in a cyclone but to no avail.

The alien pilot that had him in lock was good and obviously very experienced.

The monotone of target lock stayed annoyingly with Fury as the alien craft closed slowly but relentlessly on his vessel.

Then inevitably, Fury felt a gigantic punch in the back of his ship as the torpedo exploded and he was no longer flying the craft. Surprisingly, he did not blow up. Some of his trick flying must have paid off, but his craft was badly damaged and incapable of flying, and he was hurt as well. There was severe damage to his legs!

He turned on the emergency beacon in the hope his now drifting wreck of a craft was near enough to a rescue team that could reach him before he spun out of control into the vastness of space and was lost to an eternity of space travel and a slow, slow death. Or before the Alien craft decided to target him again and finish him off. It would be a waste of a missile though. It was pretty obvious he was out of the game for now. He wondered what would happen.

Then like a ray of sunshine he heard the chime of an incoming message, and the casual drawl of a fellow Aussie letting him know they were taking him in and towing him back to the mothership.

Fury thanked his GODS of battle for this mercy! The friendly voice asked if he was injured and the status of his life support systems. Fury confirmed that he was slowly losing atmosphere and both his legs were damaged, but he wasn’t in danger, however, of dying anytime soon. Then he must have blacked out as his body dropped into shock allowing his body to minimise resource use as he allowed this fellow Australian to take charge of his destiny.

Slowly his surroundings began to press in on his senses, he could hear a soft voice talking softly through the haze. Large solid shapes filled his vision and then a beautiful pale face appeared murmuring reassuringly. Her voice was like honey flowing into his mind. He drifted off to sleep and dreamed of the vision he had seen last.

In his dreams or hallucinations, whatever you chose to call them, he relived the trauma of his life over and over. The terror of the Alien attacks. The horror and bloody corpses of his family and friends. The devastation of finding his wife’s pregnant body. And always there, in the background was this soothing voice, easing the pain and trauma of those horrible battles and nightmarish encounters.

Eventually he came back from the dark recesses of his mind. His body had healed and the memory of an angel with a voice like dripping honey remained strong within him.

The flicking of the ceiling lights awoke him from his slumber and a red headed angel handed him some medication and a glass of water.

“Here take these flyboy, they will help.” She smiled at him.

It was the voice from his dreams. He sat up suddenly and collapsed back on the bed groaning in pain.

She rested her pale hand lightly on his chest and shook her head, “Easy! Flyboy you keep acting like that and you will never get out of here,” she laughed.

Her name was Antonia, but insisted he call her Toni. They spoke often, sometimes late into the night after her shift was over. She was trying to get over losing her fiancé in a dog fight with the aliens early on in the war.

On one particular night, they took a walk in the hospital grounds. It was quite late as they wandered along the faintly lit paths and no one else was about. They pretty much had the gardens to themselves. They talked about their past and their hopes for the future. Fury’s legs were as good as new now.

At one point during their walk, Fury stood tall and looked at her. He decided he wanted to kiss this angel who had nursed him so well. He took her hand and kissed the back of it gently, as a gentleman would a lady. When she didn’t object, he turned her hand over and intimately ran his thumb over her palm, drawing an invisible pattern. Her eyes were fixed on him and again, she did not object to him. Instead, her tongue slowly licked her lips.

He drew her palm up higher and bought it to his mouth, kissing the inside of her hand open mouthed. He watched her reaction and saw a little sharp intake of breath. He needed no further encouragement. Taking her in his arms, he kissed Toni’s inviting lips softly at first and then slowly harder and more insistent as he felt her soften and melt against his strong body.

She wanted him, as much as he wanted her. He edged behind her while his hands began to explore her body. Her neck arched and stretched as their kiss continued unbroken. Both breathed through their noses. Eventually he was stood right behind her, his groin pressed against her round buttocks. His head bent forward to continue their kiss. Her moans and mewls caressed his ears in time to his hands exploring her body and delightful curves.

Slowly, he began to unbutton her uniform from the front, exposing her flushed, hot flesh to the evening air. Her lingerie covered her and was suitable for a working nurse and yet was sexy as sin. It was a pale feminine pink in colour. The bra was full cup and matched the panties which had a lacy band that stretched across her hips. It dived down into two neat triangles to cover her sex and buttocks. It was filmy and semi see-through against her flesh. It begged to be torn off. She also wore white stockings and suspenders.

He felt her breath change as she felt the exposure and slid his hand under her bra. He tweaked her nipple and was amazed at how fast they both reacted to his ministrations. They were growing larger and harder as he played with her. She leaned back and felt his muscular chest against her shoulder blades and her hips writhed in passionate delight. His lips caressed her neck as she threw her head back exposing her pale flesh to his questing mouth and jutting her tits out in invitation to him.

He ran his hands across her shoulders and pushed her uniform off. It slid to the ground, leaving her in just her pink bra and panties and her white suspender belt and stockings. She looked hot and very sexy especially when the cool evening air raised goose bumps all over her body.

She moaned his name softly as his manhood began to stir, coming to rest between her firm bottom cheeks. She tried to turn in his arms but he didn’t want her to. He liked her in this position and his strength was too much for her to overcome. His hand slid across her flat stomach and his fingers teased her along the top of her panties. Her hips arch forward and he smiled at her wanton moves.

He laughed softly at her futile attempts to take control of the situation and lowered his head to kiss her shoulders and back. Using his teeth he nibbled and released her bra catch. It fell to the floor as his hands stroked the straps down her arms. It lay amongst the muddle of her discarded clothing around her feet. The cool breeze excited her nipples even further and it worked together with him while he stripped her slowly. That excitement spiked directly to her clitoris awaking it and it began to stir and swell. She begged softly for more while she flushed in response. It resulted in her panties becoming dampened.

He knelt behind her and taking her panty band in his teeth, he slowly pulled them down until they dropped and joined her bra. He bent her forward and exposed her moist pussy and arsehole to him.

“Spread your cheeks wide for me,” he instructed her.
 
Toni did as she was told, feeling exposed and vulnerable but ever so turned on.

Ever so slowly, he slid his tongue down the crack of her arse circling her puckered starfish making it flicker in delight.

Sliding lower, he licked slowly along her nether lips, feeling their heat as her desire grows. Her labia were beginning to swell and open to his tongue. Her clitoris peeked out shyly and her thighs began to tremble. Her breathing became shallow and her moans mounted in frequency and volume as she forced herself back and pushed her pussy into his mouth.

He liked this slutty side of her. His long tongue opened her inner lips and delved deeply into her secret treasure, burrowing into her feminine cave, making her cry aloud. Her natural juices tasted of the finest nectar and he lapped her up, mingling her taste with his saliva and making her tunnel slick and enticing.

She placed her hands on a nearby bridge rail to help support herself. Her legs and knees were becoming as weak as jelly as her need grew. Her passion was rising and her pussy muscles began to spasm in an attempt to hold his questing tongue deeply with in her. His fingers moved to tease and arouse her clitoris to further excitement. Faster and faster his tongue and fingers worked on her to bring her to orgasm while the fingers on his other hand slid deeply into her hot willing cunt.

She groaned as she felt the cool fingers penetrate her intimate heat. Her pussy would always know the intimacy of those fingers now and both knew, they would remember this as she tended his bedside.

He spun her around and bent her back slightly on the supporting rail. This had the effect of pushing her pussy out for him. He lavished his tongue’s attention on her clitoris and added a third finger into her sopping sex. He felt her hips jerk back and forth as she neared her peak. She was lost in total slut mode and he loved he had caused this. Her back arched and her legs lifted and wrapped around his head forcing him harder against her clit. Soon she began to orgasm. Her thighs trembled as she fell across the rail in wanton abandon and begged him to fill her. She wanted him and wanted him now!

He lifted her body from the ground and carried her to the grassy area beneath the trees and laid her down, lifting her legs to his shoulders. He exposed his rigid cock and drove it deeply and forcibly into her open pussy. He stilled as her hips rose to take him deeper and she tried to encourage him to fuck her. He made her wait enjoying her wanton slutty need for him. He liked her bucking on his stilled erection.

He waited till she moaned in frustration and then like a raging stallion he began to plough deeply in and out of her swollen sex organ.

His force stunned her slightly into stillness herself. Then she recovered and began to meet him thrust for thrust as she enjoyed his lust and stoked her own even more. She rose higher and higher as she suddenly peaked in her excitement and her orgasm washed over her. She lowered her legs to his waist, pulling him deeply inside her and her vaginal muscles began to milk his cock harder and faster in her orgasm. With a soft groan, he drove further and further into her warm embrace and exploded inside of her, filling her with his hot cum. He shuddered with her in his own fulfilling climax.

He collapsed on to her body, crushing her. Then realising he may be too heavy for her slight frame. He grabbed hold of her and rolled on to his back taking her with him. They lay there cuddling and spent, holding tightly on to each other as they enjoyed the aftermath of their fucking.

Shaking him after a while, she whispered, “Come on flyboy, we gotta get you back to bed, you’ll get me sacked,” and laughed nervously.

She left him tucked in the bed, with a kiss good night and slipped out of his room. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

She remained his nurse until it was time to be discharged from the hospital. They spent a lot of her free time together growing closer over the coming months.

The weeks were a blur of rehab interviews with Dr’s of all types, as they prepared him for return to civilian life. The war with the aliens was finally over. The Terrans had won while Fury had been healing in the orbiting mothership. Now it was time to return to earth, to his broken life, his loss and to the rebuilding of the infrastructure that the 10 billion people required, including himself.

Toni was still contracted to the military as a nurse for another 18 months, so they were torn apart communicating only by deep space comms, and the time lag made things stiff and brittle. Both had full days and many commitments although they managed to maintain the long distance relationship as best they could.

Time passed rapidly, with Toni spending all her shore leave with Fury. Then she was discharged and was looking at her future. She had a dream of operating an outpost near the mining grounds. There was a lot of excitement on the frontier of space and that was where the real men would be and where fortunes could be made and lost.

His 8 years flying against the alien invasion had made him a celebrity on Terra. People had heard of his battles and bravery and as always, the stories became bigger and more amazing each time they were told.
 
Fury hated the attention and hero worship, burying himself in starting a small mining company. The era of space travel had come to the Terrans. There was going to be a boom in resources now and everyone would aspire to owning a personal space craft for their travels.

Terra had been raped of resources by the early 2000’s, so there grew a class of Terran that lived in space finding asteroids composed of valuable ore required in the manufacturing of space craft. It was a lucrative business.

Initially the manufacturers used ex-military craft supposedly ‘disarmed’ but a few Dollars in the right hands meant that the equipment could be easily rearmed. As the dollars began to flow these Space Prospectors, designed task-oriented-specific prospecting tugs. They were popular among the miners.

They were capable of towing massive asteroids to refineries orbiting through the galaxy where the " 'roids" were converted into metal and shipped to the manufacturing plants.

Fury obtained a small cargo shuttle from the military and added a few modifications that he had created himself and developed his own unique prospecting vehicle.

He restructured his mining company to act as agents and do small refining job for lots of independent prospectors. The company was doing well and had a good reputation for being fair and honest. Customers and prospectors stayed with him because they had a trustworthy working relationship.

Due to this change, he could employ others to help run the company and he could escape into deep space, away from the attention of the media and the hero worship of the masses. He found peace in the silence. Peace that would allow his mind to heal and adjust to the horrors of the bloody alien war.

He visited Toni on her outpost a few times a year and spent a lot of his rec time with her. Her Asteroid Bar & Grill was a successful outpost of the Terran race. It attracted Military vessels prospectors and even some friendly alien visitors.

It became the centre of his universe, drawing him back to Toni - the red headed love of his life with the honey soothing voice.


The End.

Prologue

A derivative concept from the Four Freedoms and similar to the License to Kill concept. The concept is derived from a speech on the goals famously articulated by United States President Franklin D. Roosevelt in the State of the Union Address he delivered to the United States Congress on January 6, 1941. In the address also known as the Four Freedoms speech, F.D. Roosevelt proposed four points as fundamental freedoms humans "everywhere in the world" ought to enjoy:
 
-- Freedom of speech and expression

-- Freedom of religion

-- Freedom from want

-- Freedom from fear

The Fifth Freedom is considered to be the freedom that protects the other four. It is normally an unspoken freedom and is considered a form of diplomatic immunity. The Fifth Freedom permits members of “The Agency” (and other members of clandestine operations) to eliminate a person(s) without any Legal or Governmental consequence, as long as it is to protect the other Four Freedoms of United States citizens. During certain sensitive missions, the Fifth Freedom is not always a viable option to field operatives, who must then adapt to accomplish their goals. When the Fifth Freedom is made available, then an operative is permitted to remove any threats deemed necessary, without the fear of legal repercussions.

When all other means are exhausted, this unofficial Fifth Freedom permits an operative to disregard any law, agreement or framework of ethical behaviour in order to accomplish his mission. As Dermot P. Brunton put it, "all means are acceptable." For example, the operative may kill in combat or by assassination, may torture or kidnap people, may deploy on U.S. soil, and may spy on other U.S. government agencies.

Part One.

September 12 mid-morning.

 "Good Morning, this is your Captain speaking, we'll be making our final approach into Achat International Airport in just a few minutes. The Tower reports the weather today as mostly clear with morning temperatures slowly rising to near 81 degrees, winds from the north at 5 to 10 mph, the local time is 8am central standard time. The crew and I hope you all enjoy your trip to Achat City, and as always, Thank you for flying Delta Airways".


Antonino’s dark eyes fluttered slowly open at the sound of the Captain's voice over the PA system. He stretched his body out as best he could, then pushed himself back up into a sitting position. He turned to glance out the window. The specks of metal and glass that formed into buildings rising up to meet him as the plane descended lower caused a smile to cross his face as he remembered as a boy, how he used to play with small pills made of tightly compressed sponge, that when dropped in water began to expand and grow into shapes of Dinosaurs and what not.

Not too far off he could see the series of Highway on and off ramps that circled around like a shamrock and made up what every Chicagoan knew as "The Loop". The smile slowly turned to a frown, just further west was the Agency Building, where a person's childhood ignorance of innocence hit the brick wall of adult reality.

The plane landed. Everyone rose from their seats and headed for the exit. Antonino turned and headed for the galley where he found the two Stewardesses that had captured his fancy after innocently flirting with them both during the first half of the flight.

Kimberley was the typical statuesque long haired blonde bombshell with soft blue eyes, fair skin, full lips, large breasts, long legs and tight ass with that innocent country charm that could get a hundred year old man erect just from listening to her.

Samantha on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Short, sultry green eyes, long raven dark hair, tanned complexion, curves in all the right places and taunt, strong legs and thighs that looked as if they could squeeze a man in half once wrapped around his waist.

As he drew closer to them both, he flashed his best boyish grin and spoke in a deep soft baritone voice.

"Good Morning Ladies," he said sheepishly, then feigned a look of hesitancy, "I don't mean to come off as rude or arrogant, and I know we all wanna get off this plane as soon as possible. So, I'm just gonna come right on out and ask. Would you Ladies like to have dinner with me tonight?"

He brought up his hands, palms out when they looked at him strangely.

"I know, I know...I feel funny for asking," he faked an apologetic look, "But I spent this whole flight trying to make up my mind which of you two I'd like to get to know better, and...Well, it's just impossible to choose. You are both just so beautiful and since…Well, since I don't know anyone here in this big, lonely city…" he paused briefly, waiting for the lightening to strike before continuing,

 "Well, I didn't see any harm in asking two lovely women out for dinner, especially after how well we got along earlier...I know it's an odd thing for me to ask, I was just thinking we all could be friends."

As he had figured, Samantha was the more adventurous of the two, whereas Kimberley was interested, but reluctant and the same time. After a bit of coaxing by Samantha, she agreed and Antonino found it hard to keep the predatory, wolfish grin from spreading across his face.

He handed them his card, "I've got a suite at The Conrad downtown. I asked for a high floor to show a great view of the city.  I've heard they’ve got an excellent restaurant we could eat at and then afterwards we can get a few drinks at the Nightclub there as well maybe. But it's totally up to you. I'd be happy just to take you both to dinner." He waited again for lightening to strike, "Meet you both in the Lobby, say...6pm?"

The Audi A6 responded instantaneously to the slight pressure of his foot on the accelerator as he sped out of the Airport parking lot. Then shot down the Highway, easily slipping around the other cars with just the slightest twist of the steering wheel. Normally he didn't drive like he was an Indy car racer, but there was still a lot to get done before 6pm. He took for granted the fact he didn't have to worry about local Cop cars chasing him down. If they did and ran his plate number through the on board computer, they’d backed off once the plate info came back that it was registered with diplomatic immunity. One of the many perks of working for the Agency.

He pulled into the lower parking garage of the Agency building and parked. He by-passed the security checkpoint procedures with a simple and quick retinal scan, then made his way into the building and straight to the Human Resources Department, purposely doing an end around the Bosses Office.

After dealing with the HRD people and having the money owed to him transferred to his offshore account, he managed to slip back out and was speeding away before the Boss noticed he'd even been in the building.

September 13, 05:00

Antonino woke at 5am and untangled himself from the arms and legs of Kimberly and Samantha. He got to his feet and admired their naked bodies as he stretched and twisted, working the kinks out of his joints and muscles. He felt quite satisfied with himself that despite the fact he was getting older, he was still able to outlast both the 22 year old and 26 year old women.

He took a quick shower, towelled off, then still naked, walked out, across the bedroom to the adjoining room. He made a pot of coffee, turned on the TV and watched some of the morning news while the coffee brewed. Then he poured a cup full, checked to make sure the girls were still asleep on the beige sheeted King size bed. He walked over the plush yellow, orange and red patterned carpet and pulled the laptop from the desk drawer and sat down. He liked that the room had two glass walls to look over the city sky line. It was an impressive view and a little voyeuristic if other buildings were on the same height and eye line. Luckily they weren’t. He wondered at the wisdom of his choice but it was a little indulgence he liked to take advantage of when he could in the city. He took a sip of coffee and logged onto the secure uplink to Agencies comm satellite and checked his highly secured messages.


 --Agency: Germany - Priority code 10. Sept.15 at 12:00, Midnight.--


Antonino scowled and muttered a "Son-of-a-bitch!" under his breath. The only possible way of getting there on time would be by fighter jet and a quick in-flight refuelling. He wondered if even Agency had that kind of pull.

He took a sip of coffee and frowned again as he recalled the last time he was in Germany... back in 2005, when he was sent in to "assist" Chancellor Merkel win the election.

For a moment he considered not going. He looked to the bedroom, then sat the cup of coffee down, logged off on the laptop, got up and put it away. He headed for the bedroom to pass out two orgasmic wake up calls before deciding how he was going to get to Germany in the quickest way possible.

Failing to go would be like abandoning a post. There was a war going on against the terror threats to his country and her allies. He had lives to save, people to protect.

As he began to intimately explore his two bed mates, he stood proud for his country and the responsibilities he held dear and swore to protect.

Part Two

She led him to her hotel room, handed him the door key and then stepped past him after he opened the door for her. Once she heard him close the door behind them, she turned to face him. She reached up and unhooked the clasps holding her gown and let it fall to the floor. She stood there naked, watching him as his eyes lingered up and down her form. She was athletic but not overly muscular that it spoilt the attraction of her curves. Her breasts were ample and firm. She had a taut waist that flared enticingly into pleasing hips and long ice skater type legs.

She could tell he was pleased with what he saw. She then turned her back to him. She stood a moment or two giving his eyes time to linger on her again. Then she knelt forward on the bed bringing her right knee up on the mattress and keeping her left foot on the floor. She looked over her right shoulder at him with a coy smile. Her angelic face was framed by long strands of corn silk blonde curls. She could see the lust in his eyes as he took in the view of her bent over the bed.

She wiggled her heart shaped ass at him and let him have a quick glance of her pink clean folds. But just as his hands reached out to take her by the hips, she spun up on the bed, sitting on her knees facing him. She could tell he was aroused but the time wasn't right yet and she patted the bed in front of her beckoning for him to sit.

Reluctantly he did so as she slipped her arms under his own. She leaned her face to his neck and lightly kissed his skin. As she undid the buttons of his shirt, she continued to lightly kiss and nibble his neck, teasing his hot flesh with the tip of her tongue. She pressed her breasts against his naked back, her hands playing upon his muscular chest and tight 6 pack stomach.

She then teased him a little by letting the tips of her fingers stroke between his bellybutton and the clasp of his belt. She felt him relax slightly against her but the time still wasn't right. She pulled back just enough so she could massage his broad shoulders working his muscles with her slender but strong fingers. He groaned slightly, expecting her hands to slide down elsewhere, and she felt him relax even more from the shoulder message.

He closed his eyes and rested his head between her breasts. She smiled slightly, leaned forward again, kissing and nibbling his neck and earlobe. She moved her left hand to his hair and played her fingers through the long curly blonde locks and he nestled back against her more. She sensed the tension leave his body, totally at her mercy now. Her left hand bent his head further to the left and she danced the tip of her tongue along his ear then dropped her left arm firmly across his chest. Her right hand reaching behind her and clasped the hilt of a dagger, blade downward, then moved her lips so her hotly whispered words covered his ear.

 "You were warned about double crossing the Boss!"
 
His eyes went wide, but before his brain could register what was happening, she raised the dagger above him and plunged it downward. She buried the blade between the curve of his neck and his collarbone.

She held him tight as his body went stiff. He tried to scream but she pushed forward on the hilt of the dagger slicing the blade across his windpipe. She continued to hold him tightly as he struggled. His hands clawed uselessly at her arms trying to break her hold and pull away from her. It was futile. He gasped for breath but could only gurgle, choking on his own blood. Once his body went limp, she pushed off the bed to the right. His now lifeless body fell backwards to the left.

She reached down and picked up his shirt, went to the bathroom sink, placing the shirt within and then filling the sink with warm water. Once the shirt was soaked, she used it to wash his blood from her face, arms and breasts. She would bath more completely later. She went to her purse and got her cell-phone and dialled the pre-set number for the Sweeper team that would come in and clean the room of all DNA and get rid of the body. There would be no evidence left of the murder afterwards.

Antonino waited till she closed the cell-phone, wrapped the fingers of his gloved left hand around the pistol grip of the silenced Sig P229, slipped the double doors of the closet open and stepped into the room. He pointed the business end of the pistol squarely between the sultry green eyes of the female Assassin. 

"Sorry Luv, seems like the double cross is on you," he said in a rather deadly calm tone before squeezing the trigger.

He holstered the pistol as her body crumpled to the floor and was on a burner phone dialling 911. He reported he had heard an argument, then a gunshot in the room next to his, to the Operator who answered the emergency call.

After the ending the call, he pulled a large travel case from the closet he was in. It was filled with twenty-five grand in one hundred dollar bills and was enough evidence to implicate that the woman and the man she had just killed were from rival Terrorist groups.

Each were trying to establish within the United States.

He placed the case on the bed, opened it and took a manila envelope from the case containing fake hit orders along with photos and details about the murdered man's lifestyle, habits and weekly routine. He hid it in the top drawer of the dresser, underneath her neatly folded underwear.

He waited a few minutes for the sound of sirens drawing near, knowing the Sweeper Team she called wouldn't come near the hotel with a bunch of Police Cars out front. He moved to the window, pulled the curtains back just far enough to see three Squad Cars pulling into the parking lot. Then casually, he left the room and went to the staircase. He walked up three flights of stairs, then went to the elevators, pressed the button for the elevator going down, arriving in the lobby just as the Police Officers were going up. It was perfectly timed.

He smiled as he left, disappearing like a ghost into the city. His country was safe again for the moment. That was, until the next threat he had to deal with.


The End.

The booming sound of artillery punctuates the continuous rattle of small arms fire. Seconds after the report of the big guns, a cascade of explosions smother all other sounds, the very ground trembling at the impact. The young soldier stops, leaning against a tree he grasps for breath trying to fill his burning lungs. He listens, trying to figure out which side is handing out the pounding. His he hopes.

His uniform is torn and ragged. His jacket he lost some way back, his athletic torso now just covered by his white singlet, stained with blood, sweat and grime. Taking another deep breath, he puts his back against the tree and slips down to the ground, trying to ease his aching legs. Tentatively, he touches the back of his head, feeling where his hair is matted with dried blood, satisfying himself that the bleeding has stopped.

Glancing round the fruit trees of the orchard he begins to feel safe. His eyes see the column of black smoke billowing up from the hilltop beyond. The smoke marks the location of the village from where he barely escaped with his life.

His platoon had been ordered to check the village for enemy stragglers. High command had said they should meet no resistance. The young soldier’s squad had been searching the narrow streets on eastern side of the village. Distrusting command’s assessment, they moved cautiously under the guidance of their guff old sergeant. A sudden explosion to the west, caused them to freeze, panicked eyes searching.

“Shit, Bill…what’s happening?

The young soldier, Bill turned about to answer, when a sudden flash and loud boom filled his senses. Dazed, lights dancing before his eyes, ears ringing, Bill is overcome by the surreal sensation he is flying. He seems to float through the air, in slow motion. Shouts, screams of pain, the fizz of bullets cutting the air seem distant and unearthly to his confused brain.

Something hits Bill in the back, for a moment it seems like he’s hanging in mid-air. Then, the obstruction gives way. Dimly, his mind recognises the sound of breaking glass as the remains of a window showers to the floor. He continues to float through the air. The cries become fewer, and with a gunshot another goes silent.

Bill hits the ground hard. Instantly, the air is knocked out of his lungs and he lies gasping for air.  The blow rallies his mind enough that he realises the danger he is in. He has been blown through a window and he is laying in the pool of light shining through its shattered remains. With enemies outside, Bill quietly crawls into the safety of the shadows of the old building. Desperately, he looks for his rifle, but it is nowhere in sight. Another explosion sounds nearby. The whole building shakes. Something thumps the back of his head, his eyes open wide…then he falls into darkness.

With his head pounding the soldier gradually wakes, with no idea how long has passed. He winces as he touches a hand to the back of his head, it is wet with blood, but it is already sticky, filling him with relief that the injury isn’t too bad. When voices reach his ears, he freezes. His enemies are still outside in the street. If they find him, they will show no mercy.

He looks around his surroundings. He is in a small simple house, the furnishings plain and functional. The door on the opposite side is what gets his attention. Escape! He crawls across the floor, each moment fearing discovery. Heart pounding in his chest. Gently, he pushes upon the door, opening it just enough to allow him to see out. He looks upon a small, unkempt garden, the ground dry and dusty, and the plants desiccated skeletons of their former glory. And no sign of any enemies. Bill eases the door open, just wide enough to allow himself to exit.

Suddenly, his booted foot catches a loose flagstone, sending him stumbling forward. The door escapes his grasp and slams shut, as Bill crashes to the ground. The slam of the door sounded like a clap of thunder to the soldier, even against the gun fire. He shakes his head, trying to regain his senses. Then, he hears a shout. The enemy troops in the street heard!

Scrambling to his feet, he runs. He vaults over the back wall, swearing as his feet fail to find ground. Rather there is a steep embankment. He crashes onto the rough ground unable to regain his feet. He tumbles head over heels. His jacket catches on undergrowth and is torn from his body. He continues to roll. As the incline lessens, finally he manages to get his feet under him, but Bill is disorientated from his fall.

Then he spots the orchard and he knows he will be safer there than in open ground.  He breaks into a sprint, desperation driving him on. Several times he stumbles upon the rubble strewn ground, but always just manages to keep his feet. His lungs burn, hungry for oxygen, his heart pounds and his legs ache, but fear keeps him going…

The sound of another volley of artillery fire startles the young soldier. He’s leaning against the tree in the orchard. Realising he dozed off he swears, quickly climbing to his feet, his eyes searching through the surrounding trees. Heading towards him, from the direction of the village are several figures. His enemies are searching for him. Gripped by fear, panicked, he makes a wild dash, zigzagging through the trees. His only thought to escape, to find some place to hide.

Suddenly, he breaks free of the trees. A new danger faces him. If the enemy catch him in the open…the thought urges him on. Running, eyes searching for a place to hide. He is heading towards the coast. He knows there is no refuge upon the cliffs. Then, he spots it. An old building, built of sandy coloured stone. The worn stone wall that surrounds it has tumbled down in places, it could almost appear to be abandoned, but the profusion of beautiful coloured flowers that fill the garden, suggests someone is tending them.

Bill’s only thought is to stay alive. Despite his complaining limbs, he sprints across the open group, every moment expecting to hear gunfire and bullets to start to whizz round him. He vaults the wall and barely slows as he hits the door and quickly closes it behind him.

His eyes immediately fall upon the startled young woman standing before him. Her olive skin stands in stark contrast to her simple white dress, cut low and square across her amble bosom, which rises and falls rapidly at the sudden arrival of the unexpected stranger. Her black hair falls over her shoulders. Smouldering dark eyes fixed in challenge upon the stranger, as her lips part slightly. Bill reacts, fearing she is about to scream, pushing her roughly to the wall, a hand clasped over her mouth. A look of fear and hatred fill her eyes, as she tries to push him away, but the soldier is too strong.

He moves closer to her, his body pressing hers, smelling a slight floral fragrance upon her. He whispers “I’m not going to hurt you. Sorry, I didn’t know there was anyone here. Don’t make a sound. I’m being pursued. If they find me, we’re both dead.” The girl relaxes, no longer struggling against him, her eyes soften as she nods that she understands.

As Bill holds her in place, he is suddenly aware of her body pressed against his. The rise and fall of her breasts with each breath. Her thigh pushed against his. He feels the warmth of her body, even through the fabric of their clothes.

Simultaneously, they both glance towards the window, as they hear approaching voices. The enemy is almost upon them. The girl, her face flushed, glances towards a corner of the room. She mumbles into his hand, desperately trying to get his attention. Bill looks carefully, studying her eyes. Moving close he whispers “Quietly.” She nods to show she understands and he slowly moves his hand. “There is a hiding place there”.
 
Bill nods and releases his grip upon the girl. “Show me. And my name is Bill, by the way.”
“Maria.” Comes the reply accompanied by a warm smile. She leads him by his hand to the corner she was looking towards and quickly removes a panel revealing an alcove. “You can hide in here until they have gone.”

He shakes his head. “You’d better hide too. I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”

She starts to protest, but quickly falls silent as they both hear someone approaching the door. The discussion is over before it begun. Bill pushes her into the concealed space, before entering it himself and putting the panel back into place, just as the troops noisily kick the door open.

The alcove is small, their two bodies forced together. He is pushed up behind her, his cock stiffening at the closeness of her body. Bill feels the girl tense, as the heavy tread of the soldiers’ pass near the hidden panel. Instinctively, he wraps his arms round her, offering the promise of protection. Brushing against her breast, he feels the hardening nipple under the fabric of her dress.

From their hiding place they can hear everything the searching soldiers do and catch occasional glimpses of them through the cracks in the wall. Cupboards are opened, their content spilled out and scattered upon the floor. A few words are exchanged by the two. A more distant voice, from outside is answered by a snapped reply from the searchers, and the sound of heavy boots upon the wood floor reverberates through the room, followed by the slam of the door.

The girl, Maria, moves, wanting to escape the confines of the alcove. She struggles against the restraining grip of the young soldier. He whispers “Wait. We need to make sure they’ve gone.” She squirms in his arms for a moment or two, before she finally gives in and relaxes, allowing herself to be pulled tighter to his body.

Bill tenses as a new sound reaches his ears, over the gun fire and the distant roar of artillery. For a few seconds he puzzles, trying to identify the increasingly loud hum. Then he realises it’s an aircraft, flying low. Small arms fire rattles from outside. The girl, despite her obvious courage, begins to shake within his arms. The plane passes overhead, then circling round unleashes its machine guns upon the ground troops. Again it passes overhead, it circles returning to its deadly work. Involuntarily, Bill pulls the girl tightly against him, one hand now trying to cover her head, as a distinctive whistling sound can be heard.

The explosion from the bomb causes the whole house to shake. Bill and Maria are showered with dust, dislodged from the rafters. From the room outside they hear things crash and smash onto the floor. She is shaking in his arms, a small whimper escapes her lips. He clings to her, nuzzling into her hair, trying to master his own fear. The buzz of the plane’s engine passes over head once more, before fading into the distance, its deadly work done.

Maria is now more desperate than ever to escape the confines of the alcove. Bill makes no attempt to stop her, himself keen to get out of their claustrophobic hiding place. He pulls the panel to one side, she pushes past him, gulping air into her lungs. Moving behind her, he gently turns her round, hugging her, while softly speaking to her, calming her, taking comfort, himself, from the feel of her warm body against his.

Looking round the kitchen, the cupboards turned out by the soldiers. Pans scattered upon the floor, china smashed, knocked down by the shockwave of the bomb exploding, Bill offers to help her clean up. She shakes her head, saying cleaning his wounds is more important. She directs him to a door, telling him to sit while she gets some water and dressings.

- Continued –

The door opens onto a terrace with a stunning sea view. The air is heavy with the smell of the sea and a heavenly floral fragrance. Flowering creepers climb up pillars and across the beams they support, providing shade from the fierce sun. Vibrant coloured flowers surround him, bright pinks predominate. Large shrubs, spill over the wall. Urns containing plants their branches bending under the weight of their cascading blooms.

The wall that encloses the terrace is the same sandy coloured stone as the building, is weather beaten and in places, needs some repair. The door and shutters are the same colour blue as the warm waters it overlooks, although the sea breezes have left them faded and in need of fresh coat of paint.

Bill sinks into the single piece of furniture that sits upon the terrace. A simple couch, with a blue and white check pattern. He sits back, the fear and fatigue of the last few hours begins to take their toll, the adrenaline that has kept him going draining from his body.

“Hey, sleepy.” A soft voice says, close enough he can feel the speaker’s hot breath upon his neck. He is fully roused from his slumber when a wet cloth is wiped across his face. His eyes meet those of Maria, sparkling to match the smile on her lips. He starts to protest that he can wash himself, she snatches the cloth out of his reach when he makes a grab for it and orders him to sit still. Realising there is no point arguing, he surrenders himself to the girl’s care. As she leaning forward once more, continuing her task, Bill’s eyes are drawn to her breasts, hypnotised by their movements within her dress.

He makes no attempt to resist as she tugs off his singlet. As she cleans his body, checking his wounds the sounds of battle seem to grow more distant for the couple. The soldier brushes a stray lock of hair away from her face. Her full lips entice him, he feels a desperate need to pull her body to his and to kiss those bountiful lips. He feels a growing excitement at the closeness and touch of Maria.

She supports herself, with her free hand resting upon his knee as she scrubs his torso, lifting away the dirt and grime. Her chest presses against him. His pulse quickens and he feels himself getting hard. As she pulls away, her white dress has become wet, the fabric sticking to her skin, her nipples visible through the now translucent material.

Removing his boots, Maria then begins to undo his pants. Suddenly embarrassed by his stiffening cock, he tries to stop her, but the girl’s determination wins through, laughing at his coyness. She blushes as her dark eyes full upon the bulge straining against his underwear. Starting to wash her legs, her lustful eyes continually return to his groin. When those smouldering eyes meet his, her tongue wetting her lips, her face flushed red, he cannot hold her gaze for more than a few seconds.

He feels her continuing to scrub his legs, working from his feet, over his knees and then along his thighs. He swallows, nervously as his hard manhood twitches, responding to her touch. She eases herself between his legs, her hand pushing the cleansing cloth higher. Her body is presses against this throbbing prick, unconsciously he grinds against her. A whispered murmur escapes Maria’s lips.

Bill looks down at the beauty washing him. Much of the front of her dress is now sodden, turning it transparent, clinging provocatively to her olive skin. One delicate hand grips his knee, her finger nails digging in slightly. Her other hand massages his thigh with the wet cloth. Her body crushed against his hardness, smiling up at him as his knob rubs against her. Her luscious lips, pursed begging for a kiss.

It seems to Bill that the girl’s hand moves in slow motion further up his leg. He grasps as Maria’s hand comes to rest on his hard shaft, caressing it slowly. The cloth falls from her hand, landing with a splash in the bowl of water. Without protest, he lets her slip off his shorts.

There’s a spark of excitement in Maria’s dark eyes, she licks her lips so they glisten. He moans, his head flopping back at her first gentle strokes of his cock. Her fingers slide up, then down his entire length. Another moan escapes his lips as her fingers tease his balls. She encircles him with her hand and begins to slowly stroke up and down his length. Tightening her grip slightly, brings a further groan from Bill.

With her tongue, she circles his tip wetting it with her saliva and spreading his precum. She kisses his head several times, while still working his shaft with her hand. Then her lips begin to slowly surround him. First just taking in his tip, tongue massaging him. Gradually, she envelopes him in her warm mouth, lips pressed tightly round him.

Maria takes his entire length, barely keeping herself from gagging, saliva dripping from her mouth, lubricating his cock. She holds herself there, sucking deeply, until Bill is moaning uncontrollably. His moans of pleasure continue as she slides back up his length. Her head begins bobbing up and down, her muffled murmurs of delight join his. Both are oblivious to a new round of distant artillery fire.

Taking him deep into her throat once more, she then slowly releases his hard cock from her hungry mouth. Leaving a trail of saliva joining them.

As she stands, the soldier grabs her hips, runs his hands up her body, over her heaving bosom and up to her shoulders. Sliding his hands over her smooth, soft skin, he grasps the fabric of her dress and begins to slowly pull it down. For a moment it hooks on her hardened nipples, before coming free, her tits bouncing. He releases her dress, it pools around her feet and Bill gazes upon her near naked body.

Softly fondling her belly, he moves up to her breasts, taking one in each hand. As he begins to tenderly knead them, Maria lets out a sigh. He runs a finger around each areola. She groans as he pinches each nipple lightly between his finger and thumb, then pulling them slightly. Sighing from pleasure, the girl slips off her thin lace panties. She kneels on the sofa, straddling his lap, as he continues to play with her tits.

Taking hold of his hard, throbbing cock, she rubs his tip against her quivering labia, moaning as she moves him back and forth, mixing his precum with the wetness flowing from her pussy. He presses his mouth to one of her tits, sucking hard on the nipple. She throws her head back, a loud groan escaping her full lips. He wets her nipple with his tongue, licking in a circular motion, before biting down slightly, causing her to cry out.

Her free flowing juices have drench his cock and her controlling hand. Suddenly, she plunges down on him, their cries of pleasure combine as his full length is buried in her hot core. She begins to ride him, with a slow, rhythmic rise and fall. Her inner walls clenching tightly round his rod. His hands grip her hips, her body shining with sweat.

Maria increases her pace, her hands clasp his shoulders, nails digging into flesh. He watches her breasts bouncing as she rides his cock. Reaching one hand behind her neck, Bill pulls her mouth down to his. He feels the softness of her lips, slightly parted his tongue invades the opening. Tongues entwine, they part briefly a string of spit hanging between them, before their lips met once more with greater passion. The woman rocking on the hard dick buried deep in her tunnel.

Bill lifts her off, standing her to face the sofa then gently pushes her forward. She rest her hands on the soft sofa, looking over her shoulder, licking her lips expectantly. Standing behind her, Bill spreads her legs wider. She feels the crown of his cock teasing against her pussy lips. A murmur of pleasure issues from her parted lips. “Please…” She sighs wanting to feel his cock fill her hole once more.

His rough hands clasp tightly to her hips as he continues to tease her. Slowly he inches his hard cock into, she tries to push back onto him, but his strong hands hold her, controlling his entry. Her head drops forward, veiled by her black hair, a lustful groan escapes her lips. He begins to pump her, each time nearly withdrawing from her entirely, before thrusting his full length into her tight core once more. He slides his hands up from her hips, bending forward to grab her swinging boobs, alternately caressing and squeezing them. Her mouth open, constant moans of pleasure coming forth as she rapidly reaches the peak of her pleasure.

Her body trembles, eyes closing as the first waves of her orgasm wash over her. Her cries of pleasure intensify, the walls of her pussy contract around the stiff member that continues to thrust deeply into her. His embedded cock soaked in her hot juices.

His hand clasping her hips tightly once more, he is taken over the edge, unleashing a powerful orgasm, his cum exploding into her. He groans as pulses of ecstasy enrapture him. He keeps her held tightly to him until every drop has been squeezed out of him.

He slides out of her, the two sinking to the floor, side by side, backs resting against the old sofa. Their mixed fluids dripping from Maria’s quivering pussy. She rests her head upon Bill’s shoulder, who wraps a protective arm around her.  Their pulses and breathing slow. She turns, their lips meet in a soft tender kiss.

“I know a man who can get you to safety.” Maria says softly.

“What about you?” A frown of concern upon Bill’s face.

“I’ll probably just come back here.” She smiles. “It’s the only home I’ve ever known.”

“It’s not safe here.” Bill says, gently turning her face towards him. “Come with me…?”


The End.

         

Arameus rested his 6ft4, exhausted body against the side of a tree and let out deep ragged sigh of relief. His right arm was numb from the parrying of enemy blows, intent on leaving him in half, then twisting his own blade about and thrusting it forward and spilling the lifeblood of his enemy upon the ground. His left arm was even worse for wear, battered and bruised from the battering of murderous blows upon the shield it had held. It was throbbing and ached painfully and already turning a deep black and blue. His entire body ached. The adrenaline which had flowed like a raging river in his veins as he and his Knights fought with reckless abandon, had now begun to drain from his body. Every muscle and nerve ending protested even the slightest of movement.

His once white surcoat was completely red with the blood of both comrades and foe. The Golden Lion, the symbol of his Father's Kingdom was no longer visible upon his chest. His chainmail was also clotted with blood and flesh and nearly unable to flex and bend as he moved and weighed heavily upon his aching body. He cast his tired brown eyes about the battlefield. The dead and dying men and horses of both friend and foe littered the ground for as far as his eyes could see and the once green sea of lush grass was now stained red with blood.

The air was filled with the cries and screams of the dying. Some called to God and some to their Mother’s. Mixed in was painful whinnies of horses. The sorrowful sound was enough to drive even the most hardened of hearts to grieving.

Three years of fighting to defend the Northernmost Kingdom of his Father’s Ally against the Barbarian hordes had now come to it victorious conclusion. What had supposed to have been a simple rooting out of a den of Barbarian along an all too important supply route, had turned into an all day pitched battle upon a fortified stronghold of more than just a handful of Barbarians raiders. With all sides committed to the battle, the entire mass of all three forces were plunged headlong into the fight. Had not the King’s Knights and Army led by himself and supported by the Achatonian forces of his Father’s Ally been seasoned warriors, the outcome could have been horribly different. Although outnumbered nearly two to one, their strength of conviction and belief gave them advantage. They felt righteous in their cause to protect an ally against a murderous horde. That belief saved the day from defeat, though at great loss to their ranks.

The loss was soon made more personal when Arameus looked up to see two equally worn and battered Knights coming his way. Arameus heart sank in his chest as he watched the two when there should have been three approaching. There could only be one reason why the third was not among them. He looked to the faces of the two. These were battle hardened Warriors, veterans of years of wars, yet upon their grim covered faces, rivers of tears flowed shamelessly. He felt his own eyes begin to water at the loss of a fellow Knight and childhood friend.

They stood silently for several moments. They had all taken the Oath. They had done their duty. They knew the risks and had accepted it with unwavering faith and had proved their valor many times over, so there were no words of comfort to be said to fill the void left by the loss of a Comrade in Arms.

Sir Kyle was the first to speak, straight and to the point.

Far too weary to be otherwise, "King Tiberius has been lost as well. A chance arrow shot to the throat. His servant’s tend to his body now for tomorrow's return to Castle Crystal Lake," he said. Then he reached out to steady Sir Byron as he began to waver from exhaustion.

"Bloody Hell," Arameus exclaimed with irritation, “Did I not instruct the guards I sent with him, to keep him from the thick of battle," he said. Then him too reached out and took hold of his friend’s arm to steady him.

"They did and now lay dead in their effort. King Tiberius would not be denied the glory of defending his own lands and charged in. The fault is not theirs," Sir Kyle answered in his usual blunt fashion despite the fact that the one to which he answered was the Crown Prince.

Arameus felt Sir Kyle's chide remark like a slap across the face but took no issue of it. Upon the battlefield they were all equal as Knights, and despite Sir Kyle's abrasive, bluntness, he was a friend and valued voice of strategy when it came to battle and war.

Arameus turned to scan his eyes across the field again then let out another deep sigh. His conscious weighted heavy at the loss of so many. War and the battles fought were never pretty. Being the Crown Prince was not as glamorous a title as those at his Father’s Court thought it to be.

He let out another sigh, then spoke, "Very well then, pass word to the Army that they will remain here, gather the dead and see to the burials, then rest a day before beginning the march home. Gather what Knights remain and bid them rest as much they can this eve, for on the morrow we shall escort King Tiberius body's and return to his Castle. We shall also see what favor I hold with my betrothed Princess when she sees I have failed to keep her Father safe."

He buried the tip of his blood covered sword in the ground and dropped to his knees. He placed his gauntleted hands on the hilt of the sword and rested his forehead on his hands. He prayed for his dead friend, those of His Army that were slain and for those he had slain in this war. He gave thanks to the Almighty that he was to see another day. With sheer force of will, he picked himself up and took Sir Byron’s arm. He bid Sir Kyle to go pass word and then helped Sir Byron back to the Camp.

The Knight’s camp was dismantled the next morning and those that were able to ride climbed atop their destriers, ready to follow Arameus wherever he led, for as many leagues as they must for he was the greatest leader they had ever followed into battle and war. They had faith in him and what lay before them. As one they moved forward in silence and fell in line behind the fallen Kings procession as vanguard, lances and banners were held low guard in honour of the fallen King as his Army took him back home to Castle Crystal Lake.

“This is it,” Arameus thought to himself as they approached the Castle of the fallen King. The place he had seen in his mind’s eye. The place where he could spend eternity. Through all the battles he and his men had fought, he had always longed for a place of his own. A place to call home. It had taken many days and nights of travel to reach this place and he and his many men were in much need of rest and a warm hearth.

Once the Castles Castellan took claim of the King's body, Arameus began to have second thoughts as to laying claim to what was promised him and thought it best out of respect for the King, his people and the late King’s daughter to allow a period of mourning to pass and so moved his Knights a day's ride back west and took up lodging at a farm to which the owner was paid handsomely. The days were filled with routine, the healing of wounds and the nights filled with tales of glory won, Friends lost and much Ale. But the darkest time of the night found Arameus alone, wrestling with the inner demons that tormented his soul.

He had fought and battled his way through Kingdom after Kingdom. He was a great warrior. Many had been struck down by his sword, soldiers, Knights, Kings and lowly serfs. The sounds of the blood cries still pounded in his head. How many Kingdoms had he won for his lord? How many Kings had he vanquished? For 4 years he had honoured his Liege Lord by fighting for him, destroying his enemies and claiming the land in his name.

The smell of the fires of many Castles, homes, and farms had burnt and still assailed his nostrils. The screams of dying men still resounded in his ears, and the sights of men bloodied, cut, some with entrails spilling from their bodies, held in their hands as they died. Would these visions ever leave him?

He had grown tired of waging war on others for his King who had never had blood on his hands as his Knights and guardsmen such as Arameus did this unholy work for him. Long before this last battle Arameus had desired to stop and to be at peace. To be in a place where he had only to fight to defend his own home if need be.

Many were the nights as he lay beneath the stars, his sword was at his side and his shield before him. Its coat of arms was the head of a golden Lion. His main was thick and proud. It seemed to glare at him from the black background, as if the Lion wished to chat to him, to roar and bid him to stand and be his own man. Arameus would see this desire flash through his mind’s eye beckoning him onward to find his own destiny.

He looked to the heavens and remembered the previous battles. The sounds and sights haunted him; the Kingdom of Weld, the Kingdom of Gloss, the Kingdom of Hawkesby.

The latter had almost been his undoing, as he stood on the castle's balcony. He was surrounded by such beautiful flowers of many colours and looked out to the ocean. He had stopped for a moment to indulge his senses and to wish to leave the place whole or to take it for himself. He had not heard the steps so quietly coming up behind him as he turned to look about him to soak it all in. His eye caught the glint of light and he swung his sword arm out slashing the air and cut down his assailant. A small sound of pain reached his ears, then the roar of his own pain rent the air. Arameus eyes had cleared too late to have stopped himself. He looked down at a young boy lying before him a small dagger held in his hand. A mere lad of maybe 15 who had thought to defend his home now dead at his feet. Arameus felt as no great Knight should. He was sickened by the death and the destruction he had caused.

A clatter of many men rushing up the stairs towards him was the last he heard before the beauty of this wonderful place was destroyed by death and fire forever.

Now, back in the present, Arameus looked before him. He knew this was the place to rest, to find the soul that had almost been lost through the life he had lead in the name of his King. A place to heal and be not only a soldier but a man.

He surveyed all around seeing again the colours of flower a reminder of that beautiful balcony about the sea of blue, the grass and trees, green and glorious not ravaged by fire and then also before him farms, cows lowing, sheep bleating, fruit and vegetables in abundance, and a laugh bubbled up from deep inside him. An errant thought of changing the Lion head on his shield to a Pumpkin head emerged. Could he still hold his head high as a Knight of the Realm with such an emblem.

Arameus shook his head still chuckling. He was losing his mind. Had that last great and gory battle unhinged him? His disorganised thoughts pushed from his mind as he strived onwards to his future and maybe even love, yes indeed the following morning he would ride back to Castle Crystal Lake of the Isle of Desire and claim what was rightfully his.

-  Continued -